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DEEP-SEA   PLUNDERINGS 


By  FRANK  T.  BULLEN. 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings.  i2mo.  cioth,  $1.50. 
The  Apostles  of  the  Southeast,    xamo. 

Cloth,  $1.50. 

The  Log  of  a  Sea- Waif. 

Being  Recollections  of  the  First  Four  Years  of  My 
Sea  Life.     Illustrated.     i2nio.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

Idylls  of  the  Sea.     i2mo.    cioth,  $1.35. 
The  Cruise  of  the  Cachalot.    Round  the 

World    After     Sperm      Whales.      Illustrated, 
lamo.    Cloth,  $1.50. 


D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY,   New  York. 


They  met  in  full  career,  rolling  each  over  each. 

(See  page  6.) 


DEEP-SEA 
PLUNDERINGS 


BY 


FRANK  T.  BULLEN,  F.  R.  G.  S. 

AUTHOR  or  "the  cruise  or  the  cachalot," 
"the  apostles  or  the  southeast,"  etc. 


With  Eight  Illustrations 


HEVf  YORK 

D.    APPLETON   AND    COMPANY 
1902 


Copyright,  1901 
By  FRANK  T.  BULLEN 


All  rights  reserved 


Published  if  arch,  1902 


TO 

Dr.  ROBERTSON  NICOLL 

A  SMALL   BUT  SINCERE 
TRIBUTE  OF  AFFECTION  AND  ESTEEM 

F.  T.  B. 


PREFATORY   NOTE 


Warned  by  previous  experience,  I  do  not  pro- 
pose to  make  any  apology  for  the  publication  of 
these  stories  in  book  form,  but  I  hope  my  generous 
critics  will  at  least  pardon  me  for  expressing  my 
gratitude  for  the  way  in  which  they  have  received  all 
my  previous  eflforts.  Naturally,  I  sincerely  hope  they 
will  be  equally  kind  in  the  present  instance. 

F.  T.    BULLEN. 
Nkw  Bedford,  Mass.,  Septemlxr^  tqot. 


Vll 


CONTENTS 


PACE 

Through  Fire  and  Water i 

The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 17 

You  Sing 53 

The  Debt  of  the  Whale 93 

The  Skipper's  Wife 117 

A  Scientific  Cruise 127 

A  Genial  Skipper 141 

Mac's  Experiment 157 

On  the  Vertex 169 

A  Monarch's  Fall 179 

The  Chums 189 

Alphonso  M'Ginty 199 

The  Last  Stand  of  the  Decapods an 

The  Siamese  Lock 235 

The  Cook  of  the  Cornucopia 259 

A  Lesson  in  Christmas-Keeping 269 

The  Terror  of  Darkness 279 

The  Watchmen  of  the  World 289 

The  Cook  of  the  Wanderer 297 

The  Great  Christmas  of  Gozo 307 

Deep-Sea  Fish 319 

A  Mediterranean  Morning 329 

Abner's  Tragedy 335 

Lost  and  Found 347 

ix 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING 
PACK 


They   met    in    full    career,    rolling    each    over 

each  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  Frontispitc* 

The  toiling  men  were  breaking  out  the  junk's  cargo 

Gently  she  covered  their  ruddy  faces 

The  skipper  produced  from  his  hip-pocket  a  revolver 

He  gasped  "  In  manus  tuas,  Domine,"  and  fell 

He  clutched  his  insulter  by  the  beard  and  belt 

She  was  to  him  brightest  and  best  of  all  damsels  . 

A  huge  sailing-ship  crushed  her  into  matchwood     . 


60 
121 
163 
208 
263 
3og 
353 


XI 


DEEP-SEA    PLUNDERINGS 


THROUGH   FIRE  AND  WATER 

"  What  a  clumsy,  barrel-bellied  old  hooker  she  is, 
Field !  " 

Thus,  closing  his  telescope  with  a  bang,  the  elegant 
chief  officer  of  the  Mirzapore,  steel  four-masted  clipper 
ship  of  5000  tons  burden,  presently  devouring  the 
degrees  of  longitude  that  lay  between  her  and  Mel- 
bourne on  the  arc  of  a  composite  great  circle,  at  the 
rate  of  some  360  miles  per  day.  As  he  spoke  he  cast 
his  eyes  proudly  aloft  at  the  splendid  spread  of  square 
sail  that  towered  upward  to  a  height  of  nearly  200 
feet.  Twenty-eight  squares  of  straining  canvas,  from 
the  courses,  stretched  along  yards  100  feet  or  so  in 
length,  to  the  far-away  skysails  of  35  feet  head,  that 
might  easily  be  handled  by  a  pair  of  boys. 

Truly  she  made  a  gallant  show — the  graceful  ship, 
that  in  spite  of  her  enormous  size  was  so  perfectly 
modelled  on  yacht-like  lines  that,  overshadowed  as 
she  was  by  the  mighty  pyramid  of  sail,  the  eye  re- 
fused to  convey  a  due  sense  of  her  great  capacity. 
And  the  way  in  which  she  answered  the  challenge 
of  the  west  wind,  leaping  lightsomely  over  the  league- 
long  ridges  of  true-rolling  sea,  heightened  the  illusion 

I 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

by  destroying  all  appearance  of  burden-bearing  or 
cumbrousness.  But  the  vessel  which  had  given  rise 
to  Mr.  Curzon's  contemptuous  remark  was  in  truth 
the  antipodes  of  the  Mirzapore.  There  was  scarcely 
any  difference  noticeable,  as  far  as  the  contour  of 
the  hull  went,  between  her  bow  and  stem.  Only,  at 
the  bows  a  complicated  structure  of  massive  timbers 
leaned  far  forward  of  the  hull,  and  was  terminated  by 
a  huge  "  fiddle-head."  This  ornament  was  carved  out 
of  a  great  balk  of  timber,  and  in  its  general  outlines 
it  bore  some  faint  resemblance  to  a  human  form,  its 
broad  breast  lined  out  with  rude  carving  into  some 
device  long  ago  made  illegible  by  the  weather;  and 
at  its  summit,  instead  of  a  head,  a  piece  of  scroll-work 
resembling  the  top  of  a  fiddle-neck,  and  giving  the 
whole  thing  its  distinctive  name. 

The  top-hamper  of  this  stubby  craft  was  quite  in 
keeping  with  her  hull.  It  had  none  of  that  rakish,  care- 
fully aligned  set  so  characteristic  of  clipper  ships.  The 
three  masts,  looking  as  if  they  were  so  huddled  to- 
gether that  no  room  was  left  to  swing  the  yards,  had 
as  many  kinks  in  them  as  a  blackthorn  stick ;  and 
this  general  trend,  in  defiance  of  modern  nautical  ideas, 
was  forward  instead  of  aft.  The  bow-sprit  and  jib- 
boom  looked  as  if  purposely  designed  by  their  upward 
sheer  to  make  her  appear  shorter  than  she  really  was, 
and  also  to  place  her  as  a  connecting  link  between  the 
long-vanished  galleasses  of  Elizabethan  days  and  the 
snaky  ships  of  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century.  In 
one  respect,  however,  she  had  the  advantage  of  her 
graceful  neighbour.    Her  sails  were  of  dazzling  white- 

2 


Through  Fire  and  Water 

ness,  and  when,  reflecting  the  rays  of  the  sun,  they 
glistened  against  the  deep  blue  sky,  the  effect  was 
so  fairy-like  as  to  make  the  beholder  forget  for  a 
moment  the  ungainliness  of  the  old  hull  beneath. 

The  wind  now  dropped,  in  one  of  its  wayward 
moods,  until  the  rapid  rush  past  of  the  Mirzapore  fal- 
tered almost  to  a  standstill,  and  the  two  vessels, 
scarcely  a  mile  apart,  rolled  easily  on  the  following 
sea,  as  if  in  leisurely  contemplation  of  each  other.  All 
the  Mirzapore's  passengers,  a  hundred  and  twenty  of 
them,  clustered  along  the  starboard  poop-rail,  un- 
feignedly  glad  of  this  break  in  what  they  considered 
the  long  monotony  of  a  sailing  passage  from  London 
to  the  colonies.  And  these  sea-farers  of  fifty-five  days, 
eagerly  catching  their  cues  from  the  officers,  discussed, 
in  all  the  hauteur  of  amateur  criticism,  the  various 
short-comings  of  the  homely  old  tub  abeam.  Gradu- 
ally the  two  vessels  drew  nearer  by  that  mysterious 
impulse  common  to  idly-floating  things.  As  the  dif- 
ferent details  of  the  old  ship's  deck  became  more 
clearly  definable,  the  chorus  of  criticism  increased, 
until  one  sprightly  young  thing  of  about  forty,  who 
was  going  out  husband-seeking,  said — 

"  Oh,  please.  Captain  James,  do  tell  me  what  they 
use  a  funny  ship  like  that  for." 

"  Well,  Miss  Williams,"  he  replied  gravely,  "  yon- 
der vessel  is  one  of  the  fast-disappearing  fleet  of 
Yankee  whalers — '  spouters,'  as  they  love  to  term 
themselves.  As  to  her  use,  if  I  don't  mistake,  you 
will  soon  have  an  object-lesson  in  that  which  will  give 
you  something  to  talk  about  all  the  rest  of  your  life." 

3 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

And  as  he  spoke  an  unusual  bustle  was  noticeable 
on  board  of  the  stranger.  Four  boats  dropped  from 
her  davits  with  such  rapidity  that  they  seemed  to  fall 
into  the  sea,  and  as  each  struck  the  water  she  shot 
away  from  the  side  as  if  she  had  been  a  living  thing. 
An  involuntary  murmur  of  admiration  ran  through 
the  crew  of  the  clipper.  It  was  a  tribute  they  could 
scarcely  withhold,  knowing  as  they  did  the  bungling, 
clumsy  way  in  which  a  merchant  seaman  performs 
a  like  manoeuvre.  Even  the  contemptuous  Curzon 
was  hushed ;  and  the  passengers,  interested  beyond 
measure,  yet  unable  to  appreciate  what  they  saw, 
looked  blankly  at  one  another  and  at  the  officers  as 
if  imploring  enlightenment. 

With  an  easy  gliding  motion,  now  resting  in  the 
long  green  hollow  between  two  mighty  waves,  and 
again  poised,  bipd-like,  upon  a  foaming  crest,  with 
bow  and  stern  a-dry,  those  lovely  boats  sped  away 
to  the  southward  under  the  impulse  of  five  oars  each. 
Now  the  excitement  on  board  the  Mirzapore  rose  to 
fever-heat.  The  crew,  unheeded,  by  the  officers, 
gathered  on  the  forecastle-head,  and  gazed  after  the 
departing  boats  with  an  intensity  of  interest  far  be- 
yond that  of  the  passengers.  For  it  was  interest  born 
of  intelligent  knowledge  of  the  conditions  under  which 
those  wonderful  boatmen  were  working,  and  also  tem- 
pered by  a  feeling  of  compunction  for  the  ignorant 
depreciation  they  had  often  manifested  of  a  "  greasy 
spouter."  Presently  the  boats  disappeared  from  ordi- 
nary vision,  although  some  of  the  more  adventurous 
passengers  mounted  the  rigging,  and,  fixing  them- 

4 


Through  Fire  and  Water 

selves  in  secure  positions,  glued  their  eyes  to  their 
glasses  trained  upon  the  vanishing  boats.  But  none 
of  them  saw  the  object  of  those  eager  oarsmen.  Of 
course,  the  sailors  knew  that  they  were  after  whales; 
but  not  even  a  seaman's  eye,  unless  he  be  long-accus- 
tomed to  watching  for  whales,  possesses  the  necessary 
discernment  for  picking  up  a  vapoury  spout  five  or 
six  miles  away,  as  it  lifts  and  exhales  like  a  jet  of 
steam  against  the  broken  blue  surface.  Neither  could 
any  comprehend  the  original  signals  made  by  the  ship. 
Just  a  trifling  manipulation  of  an  upper  sail,  the  dip- 
ping or  hoisting  of  a  dark  flag  at  the  main-mast  head, 
or  the  disappearance  of  another  at  the  gaflf-end  suf- 
ficed to  guide  the  hunters  in  their  chase,  giving  them 
the  advantage  of  that  lofty  eye  far  behind  them. 

More  than  an  hour  passed  thus  tantalizingly  on 
board  the  Mirzapore,  and  even  the  most  eager  watch- 
ers had  tired  of  their  fruitless  gazing  over  the  sea  and 
at  the  sphinx-like  old  ship  so  near  them.  Then  some 
one  suddenly  raised  a  shout,  "  Here  they  come !  "  It 
was  time.  They  were  coming — a-zoonin',  as  Uncle 
Remus  would  say.  It  was  a  sight  to  fire  the  most 
sluggish  blood.  About  five  hundred  yards  apart  two 
massive  bodies  occasionally  broke  the  bright  surface 
up  into  a  welter  of  white,  then  disappeared  for  two 
or  three  minutes,  to  reappear  at  the  same  furious  rush. 
Behind  each  of  them,  spreading  out  about  twenty 
fathoms  apart,  came  two  of  the  boats,  leaping  like 
dolphins  from  crest  to  crest  of  the  big  waves,  and  oc- 
casionally hidden  altogether  by  a  curtain  of  spray. 
Thus  they  passed  the  Mirzapore,  their  gigantic  steeds 

5 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

in  full  view  of  that  awe-stricken  ship's  company,  privi- 
leged for  once  in  their  lives  to  see  at  close  quarters 
one  of  the  most  heart-lifting  sights  under  heaven — the 
Yankee  whale-fisher  at  hand-grips  with  the  mightiest, 
as  well  as  one  of  the  fiercest,  of  all  created  things. 
No  one  spoke  as  that  great  chase  swept  by,  but  every 
face  told  eloquently  of  the  pent-up  emotion  within. 

Then  a  strange  thing  happened.  The  two  whales, 
as  they  passed  the  Mirzapore,  swerved  each  from  his 
direct  course  until  they  met  in  full  career,  and  in  a 
moment  were  rolling  each  over  each  in  a  horrible 
entanglement  of  whale-line  amid  a  smother  of  bloody 
foam.  The  buoyant  craft  danced  around,  one  stern 
figure  erect  in  each  bow  poising  a  long  slender  lance ; 
while  in  the  stem  of  each  boat  stood  another  man, 
who  manipulated  a  giant  oar  as  if  it  had  been  a 
feather,  to  swing  his  craft  around  as  occasion  served. 
The  lookers-on  scarcely  breathed.  Was  it  possible 
that  men — just  homely,  unkempt  figures  like  these — 
could  dare  thrust  themselves  into  such  a  vortex 
amongst  those  wallowing,  maddened  Titans.  Indeed 
it  was.  The  boats  drew  nearer,  became  involved ; 
lances  flew,  oars  bent,  and  blood — ^torrents  of  blood — 
befouled  the  glorious  azure  of  the  waves.  Suddenly 
the  watchers  gasped  in  terror,  and  little  cries  of  pain 
and  sympathy  escaped  them :  a  boat  had  disappeared. 
Specks  floated,  just  visible  in  the  tumult — fragments 
of  oars,  tubs,  and  heads  of  men.  But  there  was  no 
sound,  which  made  the  scene  all  the  more  impressive. 

Still  the  fight  went  on,  while  the  spectators  forgot 
all  else — ^the  time,  the  place ;  all  senses  merged  in  won- 

6 


Through  Fire  and  Water 

der  at  the  deeds  of  these,  their  fellow-men,  just  follow- 
ing, in  the  ordinary  way,  their  avocation.  And  the 
thought  would  come  that  but  for  an  accident  this 
drama  being  enacted  before  their  eyes  would  have 
had  no  audience  but  the  screaming  sea-birds  hover- 
ing expectantly  in  the  unheeding  blue. 

The  conflict  ceased.  The  distained  waters  became 
placid,  and  upon  them  floated  quietly  two  vast  corpses, 
but  recently  so  terrible  in  their  potentialities  of  destruc- 
tion. By  their  sides  lay  the  surviving  boats — two  of 
them,  that  is;  the  third  was  busy  picking  up  the 
wrecked  hunters.  And  the  old  ship,  with  an  easy 
adaptation  of  her  needs  to  the  light  air  that  hardly 
made  itself  felt,  was  gradually  approaching  the  scene. 
The  passengers  implored  Captain  James  to  lower  a 
boat  and  allow  them  a  nearer  view  of  those  recently 
rushing  monsters,  and  he,  very  unwillingly,  granted 
the  request.  So  slow  was  the  operation  that  by  the 
time  the  port  lifeboat  was  in  the  water  the  whaler 
was  alongside  of  her  prizes,  and  all  her  crew  were  toil- 
ing slavishly  to  free  them  from  the  entanglement  of 
whale-line  in  which  they  had  involved  themselves. 
But  when  the  passengers  saw  how  the  lifeboat  tumbled 
about  alongside  in  the  fast-sinking  swell,  the  number 
of  those  eager  for  a  nearer  view  dwindled  to  half  a 
dozen — and  they  were  repentant  of  their  rashness  when 
they  saw  how  unhandily  the  sailors  manipulated  their 
oars.  However,  they  persisted  for  very  shame's  sake, 
their  respect  for  the  "  spouters'  "  prowess,  and,  through 
them,  for  their  previously  despised  old  ship,  growing 
deeper  every  moment.    They  hovered  about  the  old 

7 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

tub  as  they  saw  the  labour  that  was  necessary  to  get 
those  two  enormous  carcases  alongside,  nor  dared  to 
go  on  board  until  the  skipper  of  her,  mounting  the 
rail,  said  cheerily,  "  Wunt  ye  kem  aboard,  sir,  'n'  hev 
a  peek  roun'  ?  " 

Thus  cordially  invited,  they  went,  their  wonder 
increasing  until  all  their  conceit  was  effectually  taken 
out  of  them,  especially  when  they  saw  the  wonderful 
handiness  and  cleanliness  of  everything  on  board. 
The  men,  too,  clothed  in  nondescript  patches,  with 
faces  and  arms  almost  blackened  by  exposure,  and 
wearing  an  air  of  detachment  from  the  world  of  civil- 
ized life  that  was  full  of  pathos;  these  specially  ap- 
pealed to  them,  and  they  wished  with  all  their  hearts 
that  they  might  do  something  to  atone  for  the  injus- 
tice done  to  these  unblazoned  warriors  by  their 
thoughtless,  ignorant  remark  of  so  short  a  time  before. 

But  time  pressed,  and  they  felt  in  the  way  besides ; 
so,  bidding  a  humble  farewell  to  the  grim-looking 
skipper,  who  answered  the  inquiry  as  to  whether  they 
could  supply  him  with  anything  by  a  nonchalant  "  No, 
I  guess  not ;  we  aint  a-ben  eout  o'  port  hardly  six 
month  yet,"  they  returned  on  board,  having  learned  a 
comer  of  that  valuable  lesson  continually  being  taught : 
that  to  judge  by  appearances  is  but  superficial  and 
dangerous,  especially  at  sea. 

Night  fell,  shutting  out  from  the  gaze  of  those 
wearied  watchers  the  dumpy  outlines  of  the  old  whale- 
ship.  Her  crew  were  still  toiling,  a  blazing  basket  of 
whale-scrap  swinging  at  a  davit  and  making  a  lurid 
smear  on  the  gloomy  background  of  the  night.     One 


Through  Fire  and  Water 

by  one  the  excited  passengers  sauntered  below,  still 
eagerly  discussing  the  stirring  events  they  had  wit- 
nessed, and  making  a  thousand  fantastic  additions  to 
the  facts.  Gradually  the  conversation  dwindled  to  a 
close,  and  the  great  ship  was  left  to  the  watch  on 
deck.  Fitful  airs  rose  and  fell,  sharp  little  breaths  of 
keen-edged  wind  that  but  just  lifted  the  huge  sails 
lazily,  and  let  them  slat  against  the  masts  again  as  if 
in  disgust  at  the  inadequacy  of  cat's-paws.  So  the 
night  wore  on,  till  the  middle  watch  had  been  in  charge 
about  half  an  hour.  Then,  with  a  vengeful  hiss,  the 
treacherous  wind  burst  upon  them  from  the  north-east, 
catching  that  enormous  sail-area  on  the  fore  side,  and 
defying  the  efforts  of  the  scanty  crew  to  reduce  it.  All 
hands  were  called,  and  manfully  did  they  respond; 
Briton  and  Finn,  German  and  negro  toiled  side  by  side 
in  the  almost  impossible  effort  to  shorten  down,  while 
the  huge  hull,  driven  stem  foremost,  told  in  unmis- 
takable sea-language  of  the  peril  she  was  in.  Hideous 
was  the  uproar  of  snapping,  running  gear,  rending  can- 
vas, breaking  spars,  and  howling  wind ;  while  through 
it  all,  like  a  thread  of  human  life,  ran  the  wailing  minor 
of  the  seamen's  cries  as  they  strove  to  do  what  was  re- 
quired of  them. 

Slowly,  oh,  so  slowly !  the  great  ship  paid  off ; 
while  the  heavier  sails  boomed  out  their  complaint  like 
an  aerial  cannonade,  when  up  from  the  fore-hatch 
leapt  a  tongue  of  quivering  flame.  Every  nian  who 
saw  it  felt  a  clutch  at  his  heart.  For  fire  at  sea  is 
always  terrible  beyond  the  power  of  mere  words  to 
describe ;  but  fire  under  such  conditions  was  calculated 

9 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

to  paralyze  the  energies  of  the  bravest.  There  seemed 
to  be  an  actual  hush,  as  if  wind  and  waves  were  also 
aghast  at  this  sudden  appearance  of  a  fiercer  element 
than  they.  Then  rang  out  clear  and  distinct  the  voice 
of  Captain  James — 

"  Drop  everything  else,  men,  and  pass  along  the 
hose !  Smartly,  now !  'Way  down  from  aloft !  "  He 
was  obeyed,  but  human  nature  had  something  to  say 
about  the  smartness.  Men  who  have  been  taxing  their 
energies,  as  these  had  done,  find  that  even  the  spur 
actuated  by  fear  of  imminent  death  will  fail  to  drive 
the  exhausted  body  beyond  a  certain  point.  Moreover, 
all  of  them  knew  that  stowed  in  the  square  of  the 
main-hatch  were  fifty  tons  of  gunpowder,  which  knowl- 
edge was  of  itself  sufficient  to  render  flaccid  every 
muscle  they  possessed.  Still,  they  did  what  they  could, 
while  the  stewards  went  round  to  prepare  the  pas- 
sengers for  a  hurried  departure.  All  was  done  quietly. 
In  truth,  although  the  storm  was  now  raging  over- 
head, and  the  sails  were  being  rent  with  infernal  clam- 
our from  the  yards,  a  sense  of  the  far  greater  danger 
beneath  their  feet  made  the  weather  but  a  secondary 
consideration. 

Then  out  of  a*  cowering  group  of  passengers  came 
a  feeble  voice.  It  belonged  to  the  lady  querist  of  the 
afternoon,  and  it  said,  "  Oh,  if  those  brave  sailors  from 
that  wonderful  old  ship  were  only  near,  we  might  be 
saved !  " 

Simple  words,  yet  they  sent  a  thrill  of  returning 
hope  through  those  trembling  hearts.  Poor  souls ! 
None  of  them  knew  how  far  the  ships  might  have 

lO 


Through  Fire  and  Water 

drifted  apart  in  that  wild  night,  nor  thought  of  the 
drag  upon  that  old  ship  by  those  two  tremendous 
bodies  alongside  of  her.  So  every  eye  was  strained 
into  the  surrounding  blackness,  as  if  they  could  pierce 
its  impenetrable  veil  and  bring  back  some  answering 
ray  of  hope.  The  same  idea,  of  succour  from  the  old 
whale-ship,  had  occurred  to  the  captain,  and  presently 
that  waiting  cluster  of  men  and  women  saw  with  hun- 
gry eyes  a  bright  trail  of  fire  soaring  upward  as  a 
rocket  was  discharged.  Another  and  another  followed, 
but  without  response.  The  darkness  around  was  like 
that  of  the  tomb.  Another  signal,  however,  now  made 
itself  manifest,  and  a  much  more  effective  one.  Defy- 
ing all  the  puny  efforts  made  to  subdue  it,  the  fire  in 
the  fore-hatch  burst  upward  with  a  roar,  shedding  a 
crimson  glare  over  the  whole  surrounding  sea,  and 
being  wafted  away  to  leeward  in  a  glowing  trail  of 
sparks. 

"  All  hands  lay  aft !  "  roared  the  captain,  and  as 
they  came,  he  shouted  again,  "  Clear  away  the  boats !  " 

Then  might  be  seen  the  effect  of  that  awful  neglect 
of  boats  so  common  to  merchant  ships.  Davits  rusted 
in  their  sockets,  falls  so  swollen  as  hardly  to  render 
over  the  sheaves,  gear  missing,  water-breakers  leaky — 
all  the  various  disastrous  consequences  that  have  given 
sea-tragedies  their  grim  completeness.  But  while  the 
almost  worn-out  crew  worked  with  the  energy  of  de- 
spair, there  arose  from  the  darkness  without  the 
cheery  hail  of  "  Ship  ahoy !  " 

Could  any  one  give  an  idea  in  cold  print  of  the 
revulsion   of  feeling  wrought   by   those   two   simple 

II 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

•words?  For  one  intense  moment  there  was  silence. 
Then  from  every  throat  came  the  joyful  response,  a 
note  like  the  breaking  of  a  mighty  string  overstrained 
by  an  outburst  of  praise. 

Naturally,  the  crew  first  recovered  their  balance 
from  the  stupefaction  of  sudden  relief,  and  with  coils 
of  rope  in  their  hands  they  thronged  the  side,  peering 
out  into  the  dark  for  a  glimpse  of  their  deliverers. 

"  Hurrah !  "  And  the  boatswain  hurled  the  main- 
brace  far  out-board  at  some  dim  object.  A  few  sec- 
onds later  there  arrived  on  board  a  grim  figure,  quaint 
of  speech  as  an  Elizabethan  Englishman,  perfectly  cool 
and  laconic,  as  if  the  service  he  had  come  to  render 
was  in  the  nature  of  a  polite  morning  call. 

"  Guess  you've  consid'ble  of  a  muss  put  up  hyar, 
gents  all,"  said  he ;  and,  after  a  brief  pause,  "  Don't 
know  ez  we've  enny  gre't  amount  er  spare  time  on 
han',  so  ef  you've  nawthin'  else  very  pressin'  t'  tend 
ter,  we  mout  so  well  see  'bout  transhipment,  don't  ye 
think?" 

He  had  been  addressing  no  one  in  particular,  but 
the  captain  answered  him. 

"  You  are  right,  sir ;  and  thank  you  with  all  our 
hearts !    Men,  see  the  ladies  and  children  over-side !  " 

No  one  seemed  to  require  telling  that  this  angel  of 
deliverance  had  arrived  from  the  whale-ship ;  any  other 
avenue  of  escape  seemed  beyond  all  imagination  out 
of  the  question.  Swiftly  yet  carefully  the  helpless  ones 
were  handed  over-side ;  with  a  gentleness  most  sweet 
to  see  those  piratical-looking  exiles  bestowed  them  in 
the  boat.     As  soon  as  she  was  safely  laden,  another 

12 


Through  Fire  and  Water 

moved  up  out  of  the  mirk  behind  and  took  her  place. 
And  it  was  done  so  cannily.  No  roaring,  agitation,  or 
confusion,  as  the  glorious  work  proceeded.  It  was 
the  very  acme  of  good  boatmanship.  The  light  grew 
apace,  and  upon  the  tall  tongues  of  flame,  in  all  gor- 
geous hues  that  now  cleft  the  night,  huge  masses  of 
yellow  smoke  rolled  far  to  leeward,  making  up  a  truly 
infernal  picture. 

Meanwhile,  at  the  earliest  opportunity.  Captain 
James  had  called  the  first-comer  (chief  mate  of  the 
whaler)  apart,  and  quietly  informed  him  of  the  true 
state  of  affairs.  The  "  down-easter  "  received  this  ap- 
palling news  with  the  same  taciturnity  that  he  had 
already  manifested,  merely  remarking  as  he  shifted  his 
chaw  into  a  more  comfortable  position — 

"  Wall,  cap',  ef  she  lets  go  'fore  we've  all  gut  clear, 
some  ov  us  '11  take  th'  short  cut  t'  glory,  anyhaow." 

But,  for  all  his  apparent  nonchalance,  he  had  kept  a 
wary  eye  upon  the  work  a-doing,  to  see  that  no  mo- 
ment was  wasted. 

And  so  it  came  to  pass  that  the  last  of  the  crew 
gained  the  boats,  and  there  remained  on  board  the 
Mirzapore  but  Captain  James  and  his  American  deliv- 
erer. According  to  immemorial  precedent,  the  Eng- 
lishman expressed  his  intention  of  being  last  on  board. 
And  upon  his  inviting  his  friend  to  get  into  the  waiting 
boat  straining  at  her  painter  astern,  the  latter  said — 

"  Sir,  I  'low  no  dog-goned  matter  ov  etiquette  t* 
spile  my  work,  'n'  I  must  say  t'  I  don'  quite  like  th' 
idee  ov  leavin'  yew  behine;  so  ef  yew'll  excuse 
me " 

13 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

And  with  a  movement  sudden  and  lithe  as  a  leop- 
ard's he  had  seized  the  astonished  captain  and 
dropped  him  over  the  taff-rail  into  the  boat  as  she  rose 
upon  a  sea-crest.  Before  the  indignant  Englishman 
had  quite  realized  what  had  befallen  him,  his  assailant 
was  standing  by  his  side  manipulating  the  steer-oar 
and  shouting — 

"  Naow  then,  m'  sons,  pull  two,  starn  three ;  so, 
altogether.  Up  with  her,  lift  her,  m'  hearties,  lift 
her,  'r  by  th'  gre't  bull  whale  it'll  be  a  job  spiled 
after  all." 

And  those  silent  men  did  indeed  "  give  way."  The 
long  supple  blades  of  their  oars  flashed  crimson  in  the 
awful  glare  behind,  as  the  heavily-laden  but  still  buoy- 
ant craft  climbed  the  watery  hills  or  plunged  into  the 
hissing  valleys.  Suddenly  there  was  one  deep  voice 
that  rent  the  heavens.  The  whole  expanse  of  the  sky 
was  lit  up  by  crimson  flame,  in  the  midst  of  which 
hurtled  fragments  of  that  once  magnificent  ship.  The 
sea  rose  in  heaps,  so  that  all  the  boatmen's  skill  was 
needed  to  keep  their  craft  from  being  overwhelmed. 
But  the  danger  passed,  and  they  reached  the  ship — 
the  humble,  clumsy  old  "  spouter  "  that  had  proved  to 
them  a  veritable  ark  of  safety  in  time  of  their  utmost 
need. 

Captain  James  had  barely  recovered  his  outraged 
dignity  when  he  was  met  by  a  quaint  figure  advancing 
out  of  the  thickly-packed  crowd  on  the  whaler's 
quarter-deck.  "  I'm  Cap'n  Fish,  at  yew're  service,  sir. 
We  haint  over  'n'  above  spacious  in  eour  'commoda- 
tion,  but  yew're  all  welcome  t'  the  best  we  hev' ;  'n' 

14 


Through  Fire  and  Water 

I'll  try  'n'  beat  up  f  r  th'  Cape  'n'  Ian'  ye's  quick  's  it  kin 
be  did." 

The  Englishman  had  hardly  voice  to  reply;  but, 
recollecting  himself,  he  said,  "  I'm  afraid,  Captain  Fish, 
that  we  shall  be  sadly  in  your  way  for  dealing  with 
those  whales  we  saw  you  secure  yesterday." 

"  Not  much  yew  wunt,"  was  the  unexpected  reply. 
"  We  hed  t'  make  eour  ch'ice  mighty  sudden  between 
them  fish  'n'  yew,  'n',  of  course,  though  we're  noways 
extravagant,  they  hed  t'  go." 

The  simple  nobility  of  that  homely  man,  in  thus 
for  self  and  crew  passing  over  the  loss  of  from  eight 
to  ten  thousand  dollars  at  the  first  call  from  his  kind, 
was  almost  too  much  for  Captain  James,  who  answered 
unsteadily — 

"  If  I  have  any  voice  in  the  matter,  there  will  be  no 
possibility  of  the  men,  who  dared  the  terrors  of  fire 
and  sea  to  save  me  and  my  charges,  being  heavily 
fined  for  their  humanity." 

"  Oh,  thet's  all  right,"  said  Captain  Silas  Fish. 


15 


THE  OLD    HOUSE  ON   THE    HILL 

CHAPTER  I 

There  is  something  in  the  stress  and  struggle  of 
tumultuous  life  in  a  vast  city  like  London  that  to  me 
is  almost  unbearable.  Accustomed  from  a  very  early 
age  to  the  illimitable  peace  of  the  ocean,  to  the  un- 
tainted air  of  its  changeless  circle  of  waves  and  roofless 
dome  of  sky,  I  have  never  been  able  to  endure  satis- 
factorily the  unceasing  roar  of  traffic  in  crowded 
streets,  the  relentless  rush  of  mankind  in  the  race  for 
life  which  is  the  normal  condition  of  our  great  centres 
of  civilization.  Yet,  for  many  years,  being  condemned 
by  circumstances  to  abide  in  the  midst  of  urban  strife 
and  noise  without  a  break  from  one  weary  year  to 
another,  I  lived  to  mourn  departed  peace,  and  feed  my 
longing  for  it  on  memory  alone,  without  a  hope  that  its 
enjoyments  would  ever  again  be  mine.  Then  came 
unexpected  relief,  an  opportunity  to  visit  a  secluded 
corner  of  Wiltshire,  that  inland  division  of  England 
which  is  richer,  perhaps,  in  memorials  of  our  wonder- 
ful history  than  any  other  part  of  these  little  islands, 
crowded  as  they  are  with  reminiscences  of  bygone 
glorious  days. 

I  took  up  my  quarters  in  a  hamlet  on  the  banks  of 

17 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

the  Wylye,  a  delightful  little  river,  taking  its  rise  near 
the  Somersetshire  border,  and  wandering  with  innu- 
merable windings  through  the  heart  of  Wiltshire, 
associating  itself  with  the  Bourne  and  the  Nadder, 
until  at  Salisbury  it  is  lost  in  that  most  puzzling  of  all 
streams,  the  Avon.  I  said  puzzling,  for  I  believe  there 
are  but  a  handful  of  people  out  of  the  great  host  to 
whom  the  Avon  is  one  of  the  best-known  streams  in 
the  world  from  its  associations,  who  know  that  there 
is  one  Avon  feeding  the  Severn  near  Tewkesbury, 
which  is  Shakespeare's  Avon ;  there  is  another,  upon 
which  Bristol  has  founded  her  prosperity,  and  there 
is  yet  another,  the  Avon  of  my  first  mention,  which, 
accumulated  from  numberless  rivulets  in  the  Vale  of 
Pewsey,  floweth  through  Salisbury,  and  loses  itself 
finally  in  the  waters  of  the  English  Channel  at  Christ- 
church  in  Hampshire.  But  I  must  ask  forgiveness  for 
allowing  the  wily  Avon  to  lure  me  away  thus  far. 

One  of  the  chief  charms  of  Wiltshire  is  its  rolling 
downs  rising  upon  either  side  of  the  valley,  which  in 
the  course  of  ages  the  busy  little  Wylye  has  scooped 
out  between  them  in  gentle  undulations,  a  short,  sweet 
herbage  for  the  most  part  covering  their  masses  of 
solid  chalk,  coming  to  within  a  foot  or  two  of  those 
emerald  surfaces.  This  is  the  place  to  come  and 
ponder  over  the  rubbish  that  is  talked  about  the  over- 
crowding of  England.  Here  you  shall  wander  for  a 
whole  day  if  you  will,  neither  meeting  or  seeing  a 
human  being  unless  you  follow  the  road  that  winds 
through  the  Deverills,  five  villages  of  the  valley,  all, 
alas,  in  swift  process  of  decay.    Even  there  the  simple 

i8 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

folk  will  stare  long  and  earnestly  at  a  stranger  as  he 
passes,  before  turning  to  resume  their  leisurely  tasks, 
the  uneventful,  slumberous  round  of  EngUsh  village 
life.  To  me  it  was  idyllic.  A  great  peace  came  over 
me,  and  I  felt  that  it  was  a  sinful  waste  of  nature  to 
shut  myself  within  four  walls  even  at  night.  Long 
after  the  thirty  souls  peopling  our  hamlet  had  gone  to 
bed  I  would  sit  out  on  the  hillside  behind  the  cottage, 
steeping  my  heart  in  the  warm  silence,  only  manifested 
— not  broken — by  the  queer  wailing  cry  of  an  uneasy 
plover  as  it  fluttered  overhead.  And  when,  reluctantly, 
I  did  go  to  bed,  I  was  careful  to  prop  the  windows 
wide  open,  even  though  I  was  occasionally  awakened 
by  the  soft  "  flip-flip  "  of  bats  flying  across  my  cham- 
ber, dazzled  by  the  small  light  of  my  reading  lamp. 

The  grey  of  the  dawn,  no  matter  how  few  had  been 
my  hours  of  sleep,  never  failed  to  awaken  me,  and, 
hurrying  through  my  bath  and  dressing,  I  gat  me  out 
into  the  sweet  breath  of  morning  twilight  while  Na- 
ture was  taking  her  beauty  sleep  and  the  dewdrops 
were  waiting  to  welcome  with  their  myriad  smiles  the 
first  peep  of  the  sun.  And  so  it  came  to  pass  that  one 
morning,  just  as  the  eastern  horizon  was  being  flooded 
with  a  marvellous  series  of  colour-blends  in  mysterious 
and  ever-changing  sequence,  that  I  mounted  the  swell 
of  the  down  opposite  to  the  village  of  Brixton  Deverill, 
with  every  sense  quickened  to  fullest  appreciation  of 
the  lovely  scene.  Hosts  of  rabbits,  quaint  wee  bunches 
of  grey  fur,  each  with  a  white  blaze  in  the  centre, 
scuttled  from  beneath  my  feet,  and  every  little  while, 
their  curiosity  overpowering  natural  fear,  sat  up  with 

19 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

long  ears  erect  and  big  black  eyes  devouring  the  un- 
couth intruder  on  their  happy  feeding  grounds.  Great 
flocks  of  partridges,  almost  as  tame  as  domestic  fowls 
(for  it  was  July),  ran  merrily  in  and  out  among  the 
furze  clumps,  or  rose  with  a  noisy  whir  of  many  wings 
when  I  came  too  close ;  aristocratic  cock  pheasants 
strolled  by  superciliously  with  a  sidelong  glance  to  see 
that  the  erect  biped  carried  no  gun,  and  an  occasional 
lark  gyrated  to  the  swell  of  his  own  heart-lifting  song 
as  he  rose  in  successive  leaps  to  his  proper  sphere.  I 
felt  like  singing  myself,  but  Nature's  music  was  too 
sweet  to  be  disturbed  by  my  quavering  voice,  so  I 
climbed  on,  all  eyes  and  ears,  and  nerves  a-tingle  with 
receptivity  of  keenest  enjoyment.  Reaching  the  sum- 
mit, I  paused  and  surveyed  the  peaceful  scene.  Far  to 
the  left  lay  Longleat,  its  dense  woods  shimmering  in  a 
blue  haze ;  to  the  right,  Heytesbury  Wood,  in  sombre 
shadow ;  and  behind,  the  forest-like  ridge  of  Chicklade. 
But  near  me,  just  peeping  over  the  bare  crest  of  an  ad- 
joining down,  were  the  tops  of  a  clump  of  firs,  and, 
curious  to  know  what  that  coppice  might  contain 
(I  always  have  had  a  desire  to  explore  the  recesses 
of  a  lonely  clump  of  trees),  I  turned  my  steps  towards 
it,  only  stopping  at  short  intervals  to  admire  the  grace- 
fulness of  the  purple,  blue,  and  yellow  wild  flowers 
with  which  the  short,  fine  rabbit-grass  was  profusely 
besprent.  Meanwhile  the  sun  appeared  in  cloudless 
splendour,  his  powerful  rays  dissipating  the  spring- 
like freshness  of  the  morning  and  promising  a  most 
sultry  day.  Yet  as  I  drew  nearer  the  dark  fastness  of 
the  coppice  I  felt  a  chill,  an  actual  physical  sensation 

20 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

of  cold.  At  the  same  time  there  arose  within  me  a 
positive  repugnance  to  draw  any  closer  to  that  deep 
shade.  This  unaccountable  change  only  made  me  an- 
gry wit-h  myself  for  being  capable  of  feeling  such  a 
nonsensical,  unexplainable  hindrance  to  my  purpose. 
So  I  took  hold  of  it  with  both  hands,  and  cast  it  from 
me,  striding  onward  with  quickened  step  until  I  really 
seemed  to  be  breasting  a  strong  tide.  Panting  with 
the  intensity  of  my  inward  struggle,  I  reached  the 
shadow  cast  by  that  solemn  clump  of  pines,  and  saw 
the  pale  outlines  of  a  wall  in  their  midst.  Now  curi- 
osity became  paramount,  and,  actually  shivering  with 
cold,  I  pressed  on  until  I  stood  in  front  of  a  fairly  large 
house,  surrounded  by  a  flint  wall  on  all  sides,  but  at 
some  yards  distance  from  it.  Through  large  holes  in 
the  encircling  wall  the  wood-folk  scampered  or  flut- 
tered merrily  but  noiselessly ;  rabbits,  hares,  squirrels, 
and  birds,  and  as  I  drew  nearer  there  was  a  sudden 
whiflf  of  strong  animal  scent,  and  a  long  red  body 
launched  itself  through  one  of  the  openings,  flitting 
past  me  like  a  flash  of  red-brown  light.  Although  I 
had  never  seen  an  English  fox  before  on  his  native 
heath,  I  recognized  him  from  his  pictures,  and  forgave 
him  for  startling  me.  Skirting  the  wall,  I  came  to  a 
huge  gap  with  crumbling  sides,  where  once  had  been 
a  gate,  I  suppose.  It  commanded  a  view  of  the  front 
of  the  house,  which  I  now  saw  was  a  mere  shell,  its 
walls  perforated  in  many  places  by  the  busy  rabbits, 
which  swarmed  in  and  out  like  bees  upon  a  hive.  No 
windows  remained,  but  the  front  door  was  fast  closed 
and  barred  by  a  thick  trunk  of  ivy,  which  had  once 

3  21 


Deep-Sea  Pliinderings 

overspread  the  whole  building,  but  was  now  quite  in 
keeping  with  it,  for  it  was  dead.  The  space  between 
the  wall  and  the  house  was  thickly  overgrown  with 
nettles  to  nearly  the  height  of  a  man,  but  there  was  no 
sign  of  any  useful  plant,  and  even  the  roof  of  the 
building,  which  was  of  red  tiles  and  intact,  had  none 
of  that  kindly  covering  of  house-leek,  stone-crop,  and 
moss,  which  always  decks  such  spaces  with  beauty  in 
the  country.  Upon  a  sudden  impulse  I  turned,  and 
behind  me  I  saw  with  a  shudder  that  only  a  few  feet 
from  where  I  stood  there  was  a  sheer  descent  of  some 
thirty  feet,  a  veritable  pit  some  ten  yards  wide,  but  with 
its  farther  margin  only  a  few  feet  high.  Tall  trees 
sprang  from  its  bottom  and  sides,  their  roots  surround- 
ing a  pool  of  black-looking  water  that  seemed  a  recep- 
tacle for  all  manner  of  hideous  mysteries.  Involun- 
tarily I  shrank  into  myself,  and  looked  up  for  a  glint 
of  blue  sunlit  sky,  but  it  was  like  being  in  a  vault, 
dark  and  dank  and  cold.  Still,  the  idea  never  entered 
my  head  to  get  out  until  I  had  seen  all  that  might 
be  there  to  be  seen,  although  I  confess  to  comforting 
myself,  as  I  have  often  done  on  a  dull  and  gloomy  day, 
with  the  reminder  that  just  outside  the  sun  was  shin- 
ing steadily. 

Turning  away  from  that  grim-looking  pit,  I  thrust 
myself  through  the  savage  nettle-bed,  my  hands  held 
high  so  that  I  could  guard  my  face  with  my  arms, 
until  I  reached  the  first  opening  in  the  house  wall 
that  offered  admission.  With  just  one  moment's  hesi- 
tation I  stepped  within,  and  stood  on  the  decayed 
floor  of  what  had  once  been  the  best  room.    And  then 

22 


The  Old  House  on   the  Hill 

I  had  need  of  all  my  disbelief  in  ghosts,  for  around  me 
and  beneath  me  and  above  were  a  congeries  of  all  the 
queer  noises  one  could  conjure  up.  Soft  pattering  of 
feet,  hollow  murmurings  as  of  voices,  the  indefinite 
sound  of  brushing  past  that  always  makes  one  turn 
sharply  to  see  who  is  near.  I  found  my  mouth  getting 
dry  and  my  hands  burning,  in  spite  of  the  chill  that 
still  clung  to  me;  but  still  I  went  on  and  explored 
every  room  in  the  eerie  place,  noting  a  colony  of  bats 
that  huddled  together  among  the  bare  roof-beams, 
prying  into  the  numerous  cavities  in  floors  and  walls 
made  by  the  rabbits  and  the  rats,  but  seeing  nothing 
worthy  of  note  until  I  reached  a  sort  of  cellar  which 
looked  as  if  it  had  been  used  as  a  bakehouse.  Upon 
stepping  down  the  decrepit  ladder  which  led  to  it,  I 
startled  a  great  colony  of  rats,  that  fled  in  all  directions 
with  shrill  notes  of  affright,  hardly  more  scared  than 
myself.  The  place  was  so  dark  that  I  thankfully  re- 
membered my  box  of  wax  matches,  and,  twisting  two 
or  three  torches  out  of  a  newspaper  I  found  in  my 
jacket  pocket,  I  soon  had  a  good  light. 

It  revealed  a  cavity  in  the  floor  just  in  front  of  a 
huge  baker's  oven,  into  the  dim  recesses  of  which  I 
peered,  finding  that  it  extended  for  some  distance  on 
either  side  of  the  opening.  Lighting  another  torch, 
I  jumped  down  and  found — three  oblong  boxes  of  rude 
construction,  and  across  them  the  mouldering  frame  of 
what  had  once  been  a  man.  At  last  I  had  seen  enough, 
and  with  something  tap-tapping  inside  my  head,  I 
scrambled  hastily  out  of  the  hole,  my  body  shaking  as 
if  with  ague,  and  my  lungs  aching  for  air.    I  looked 

23 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

neither  to  the  right  nor  the  left  as  I  went,  nor  paused, 
regardless  of  the  nettle  grove,  until  I  emerged  upon 
the  bright  hilltop,  where  I  flung  myself  down  and 
drank  in  great  gulps  of  sweet  air  until  my  tremors 
passed  away  and  the  tumult  of  my  mind  became  ap- 
peased. 

Without  casting  another  look  back  at  that  lonely 
place,  or  attempting  to  speculate  upon  what  I  had 
seen,  I  departed  for  home,  and,  after  a  hasty  breakfast, 
sought  out  a  friend  in  the  next  village,  Longbridge 
Deverill,  who  had  already  given  me  many  pleasant 
hours  by  retailing  scraps  of  local  history  reaching  back 
for  hundreds  of  years.  I  found  him  in  his  pretty  gar- 
den enjoying  the  bright  day,  with  a  look  of  deep  con- 
tent upon  his  worn  old  face — the  afterglow  of  a  well- 
spent  life.  Staying  his  rising  to  greet  me,  I  flung 
myself  down  on  the  springy  turf  by  his  side,  and  almost 
without  a  word  of  preface,  gave  him  a  hurried  account 
of  my  morning's  adventure.  He  listened  in  grave 
silence  until  I  had  finished,  and  then  began  as  follows. 


CHAPTER  n 

It  is  certainly  a  strange  coincidence  that  you 
should  stumble  across  that  sombre  place,  because,  after 
what  you  told  me  the  other  day  about  your  family 
connection  w-ith  this  part  of  the  country,  I  have  no 
doubt  whatever  that  the  unhappy  tenants  of  Pertwood 
Farm  (as  it  is  called  even  now)  were  nearly  related  to 
yourself.     Their  tragical  story  is  well  known  to  me, 

24 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

although  its  principal  events  happened  more  than 
sixty  years  ago,  when  I  was  a  boy.  The  house  had 
been  built  and  enclosed,  and  the  trees  planted,  by  a 
morose  old  man  who  wished  to  shut  himself  off  from 
the  world,  yet  was  by  no  means  averse  to  a  good  deal 
of  creature  comfort.  He  lived  in  it  for  some  years, 
attended  only  by  one  hard-featured  man,  who  did  ap- 
parently men  and  women's  work  equally  well — lived 
there  until  local  rumour  had  grown  tired  of  inventing 
fables  about  him,  and  left  him  to  the  oblivion  he 
desired.  Then  one  day  the  news  began  to  circulate 
that  Pertwood  had  changed  hands,  that  old  Cusack 
was  gone,  and  that  a  middle-aged  man  with  a  beau- 
tiful young  wife  had  taken  up  his  abode  there,  without 
any  one  in  the  vicinity  knowing  aught  of  the  change 
until  it  had  been  made.  Then  the  village  tongues 
wagged  loosely  for  awhile,  especially  when  it  was 
found  that  the  new-comers  were  almost  as  reserved 
as  old  Cusack  had  been.  But  as  time  went  on  Mr. 
Delambre,  whose  Huguenot  name  stamped  him  as 
most  probably  a  native  of  these  parts  (you  have  noticed 
how  very  frequent  such  names  are  hereabout),  leased 
several  good-sized  fields  lower  down  the  hill  towards 
Chicklade,  and  began  to  do  a  little  farming.  This,  of 
course,  necessitated  his  employing  labour,  and  conse- 
quently, by  slow  degrees,  scraps  of  personalia  about 
him  filtered  through  the  sluggish  tongues  of  the  men 
who  worked  for  him.  Thus  we  learned  that  his  wife 
(your  grandmother's  sister,  my  boy)  was  rarely  beau- 
tiful, though  pale  and  silent  as  a  ghost.  That  her 
husband  loved  her  tigerishly,  could  not  bear  that  any 

25 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

# 

other  eyes  should  see  her  but  his,  and  it  was  beUeved 
that  his  fierce  watchful  jealousy  of  her  being  even 
looked  upon  was  fretting  her  to  death.  Quite  a  flutter 
of  excitement  pervaded  the  village  here  not  long  after 
the  above  details  became  public  property,  by  one  of 
the  labourers  from  Pertwood  coming  galloping  in  on 
a  plough-horse  for  old  Mary  Hoddinot,  who  had 
nursed  at  least  two  generations  of  neighbours  in  their 
earliest  days.  She  was  whisked  off  in  the  baker's  cart, 
but  the  news  remained  behind  that  twin  boys  had 
arrived  at  Pert'ood,  as  it  was  locally  called,  and  that 
Delambre  was  almost  frantic  with  anxiety  about  his 
idol.  The  veil  thus  hastily  lifted  dropped  again,  and 
only  driblets  of  news  came  at  long  intervals.  We 
heard  that  old  Mary  was  in  permanent  residence,  that 
the  boys  were  thriving  sturdily,  and  that  the  mother 
was  fairer  than  ever  and  certainly  happier.  So  things 
jogged  along  for  a  couple  of  years,  until  an  occasional 
word  came  deviously  from  Pertwood  to  the  effect  that 
the  miserable  Delambre  was  now  jealous  of  his  infant 
boys.  Self-tortured,  he  was  making  his  wife  a  living 
martyr,  and  such  was  his  wild-beast  temper  that  none 
dare  interfere.  At  last  the  climax  was  put  upon  our 
scanty  scraps  of  intelligence  by  the  appearance  in  our 
midst  of  old  Mary,  pale,  thin,  and  trembling.  It  was 
some  time  before  we  could  gather  her  dread  story,  she 
was  so  sadly  shaken ;  but  by  degrees  we  learned  that 
after  a  day  in  which  Delambre  seemed  to  be  perfectly 
devil-possessed,  alternately  raging  at  and  caressing  his 
wife,  venting  savage  threats  against  the  innocent  babes 
"  who  were  stealing  all  her  affection  away  from  him," 

26 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

he  had  gone  down  the  hill  to  see  after  enfolding  some 
sheep.  He  was  barely  out  of  sight  before  his  wife, 
turning  to  old  Mary,  said,  "  Please  put  your  arms 
round  me,  I  feel  so  tired,"  Mary  complied,  drawing 
the  fair,  weary  head  down  upon  her  faithful  old  bosom, 
where  it  remained  until  a  chill  struck  through  her 
bodice.  Alarmed,  she  looked  down  and  saw  that  her 
mistress  was  resting  indeed. 

Although  terrified  almost  beyond  measure,  the 
poor  old  creature  retained  sufficient  presence  of  mind 
to  release  herself  from  the  dead  arms,  rush  to  the  door, 
and  scream  for  her  employer.  He  was  returning,  when 
her  cries  hastened  his  steps,  and,  breaking  into  a  run, 
he  burst  into  the  room  and  saw !  He  stood  stonily  for 
a  minute,  then,  turning  to  the  trembling  old  woman, 
shouted  "  go  away."  Not  daring  to  disobey,  she  hur- 
ried off,  and  here  she  was.  After  much  discussion,  my 
father  and  the  village  doctor  decided  to  go  to  Pert- 
wood  and  see  if  anything  could  be  done.  But  their 
errand  was  in  vain.  Delambre  met  them  at  the  door, 
telling  them  that  he  did  not  need,  nor  would  he  re- 
ceive, any  help  or  sympathy.  What  he  did  require 
was  to  be  left  alone.  And  slamming  the  door  in  his 
visitors'  faces,  he  disappeared.  Even  this  grim  hap- 
pening died  out  of  men's  daily  talk  as  the  quiet  days 
rolled  by,  and  nothing  more  occurred  to  arouse  in- 
terest. We  heard  that  the  boys  were  well,  and  were 
often  seen  tumbling  about  the  grass-plot  before  the 
house  door  by  the  farm  labourers.  Rumour  said 
many  things  concerning  the  widower's  disposal  of  his 
dead.     But  no  one  knew  anything  for  certain,  except 

27 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

that  her  body  had  never  been  seen  again  by  any  eye 
outside  the  little  family.  Delambre  himself  seemed 
changed  for  the  better,  less  harsh  and  morose,  al- 
though as  secretive  as  ever.  He  was  apparently 
devoted  to  his  two  boys,  who  throve  amazingly.  As 
they  grew  up  he  and  they  were  inseparable.  He 
educated  them,  played  with  them,  made  their  wel- 
fare his  one  object  in  life.  And  they  returned  his 
care  with  the  closest  affection,  in  fact  the  trio  seemed 
never  contented  apart.  Yet  they  never  came  near 
the  village,  nor  mixed  with  the  neighbours  in  any 
way. 

In  this  quiet  neighbourhood  the  years  slip  swiftly 
by  as  does  the  current  past  an  anchored  ship,  and  as 
unnoticeably.  The  youthful  Delambres  grew  and 
waxed  strong  enough  to  render  unnecessary  the  em- 
ployment of  any  other  4abour  on  the  farm  than  their 
own,  and  in  consequence  it  was  only  at  rare  intervals 
that  any  news  of  them  reached  us  in  roundabout  fash- 
ion through  Warminster,  where  old  Delambre  was 
wont  to  go  once  a  week  on  business.  So  closely  had 
they  held  aloof  from  all  of  us  that  when  one  bitter 
winter  night  a  tall  swarthy  young  man  came  furiously 
knocking  at  the  doctor's  door,  he  was  as  completely  un- 
known to  the  worthy  old  man  as  any  new  arrival  from 
a  foreign  land.  The  visitor,  however,  lost  no  time  in 
introducing  himself  as  George  Delambre,  and  urgently 
requested  the  doctor  to  accompany  him  at  once  to 
Pertwood  on  a  matter  of  life  and  death.  In  a  few 
minutes  the  pair  set  off  through  the  heavy  snow-drifts, 
and,  after  a  struggle  that  tried  the  old  doctor  ter- 

28 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

ribly,  arrived  at  the  house  to  find  that  the  patient  was 
mending  fast. 

A  young  woman  of  about  eighteen,  only  able  to 
mutter  a  few  words  of  French,  had  been  found  hud- 
dled up  under  the  wall  of  the  house  by  George  as  he 
was  returning  from  a  visit  to  the  sheepfold.  She  was 
fairly  well  dressed  in  foreign  clothing,  but  at  almost 
the  last  gasp  from  privation  and  cold.  How  she  came 
there  she  never  knew.  The  last  thing  that  she  re- 
membered was  coming  to  Hindon,  by  so  many  ways 
that  her  money  was  all  spent,  in  order  to  find  a  rela- 
tive, she  having  been  left  an  orphan.  Failing  in  her 
search,  she  had  wandered  out  upon  the  downs,  and 
the  rest  was  a  blank. 

In  spite  of  convention  she  remained  at  Pertwood, 
making  the  dull  place  brighter  than  it  had  ever  been. 
But  of  course  both  brothers  fell  in  love  with  the  first 
woman  they  had  ever  really  known.  And  she,  being 
thus  almost  compelled  to  make  her  choice,  with  all 
a  woman's  inexplicable  perversity,  promised  to  marry 
dark  saturnine  George,  although  her  previous  beha- 
viour towards  him  had  been  timid  and  shrinking,  as 
if  she  feared  him.  To  the  rejected  brother,  fair  Charles, 
she  had  always  been  most  affectionate,  so  much  so, 
indeed,  that  he  was  perfectly  justified  in  looking  upon 
her  as  his  future  wife,  to  be  had  for  the  asking.  This 
cruel  blow  to  his  almost  certain  hopes  completely 
stunned  him  for  a  time,  until  his  brother  with  grave 
and  sympathetic  words  essayed  to  comfort  him.  This 
broke  the  spell  that  had  bound  him,  and  in  a  per- 
fect fury  of  anger  he  warned   his  brother  that  he 

29 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

looked  upon  him  as  his  deadliest  enemy,  that  the 
world  was  hardly  wide  enough  for  them  both ;  but,  for 
his  part,  he  would  not,  if  he  could  help  it,  add  another 
tragedy  to  their  already  gloomy  home,  and  to  that 
end  he  would  flee.  Straightway  he  rushed  and  sought 
his  father,  and,  without  any  warning,  demanded  his 
portion.  At  first  the  grim  old  man  stared  at  him 
blankly,  for  his  manner  was  new  as  his  words  were 
rough ;  then,  rising  from  his  chair,  the  old  man  bade 
him  be  gone — not  one  penny  would  he  give  him ;  he 
might  go  and  starve  for  ought  he  cared. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Charles,  "  then  I  go  into  the 
village  and  get  advice  as  to  how  I  shall  proceed 
against  you  for  the  wages  I  have  earned  since  I  began 
to  work.  And  you'll  cut  a  fine  figure  at  the  Warmin- 
ster Court." 

The  threat  was  efficient.  With  a  face  like  ashes 
and  trembling  hands  the  father  opened  his  desk  and 
gave  him  fifty  guineas,  telling  him  that  it  was  half 
of  his  total  savings,  and  with  an  evidently  severe  strug- 
gle to  curb  his  furious  temper,  asked  him  to  hurry 
his  departure.  Since  he  had  robbed  him,  the  sooner 
he  was  gone  the  better.  The  young  man  turned  and 
went  without  another  word. 

That  same  night  old  Delambre  died  suddenly  and 
alone.  And  Louise,  instead  of  clinging  to  her  prom- 
ised husband,  came  down  to  the  village,  where  the 
doctor  gave  h^r  shelter.  The  unhappy  George,  thus 
cruelly  deserted,  neglected  everything,  oscillating  be- 
tween the  village  and  his  lonely  home.  The  inquest 
showed  that  the  old  man  had  died  of  heart  disease; 

30 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

and  George  then,  to  every  one's  amazement,  an- 
nounced his  intention  of  carrying  out  his  father's  oft- 
repeated  wish,  and  burying  him  beneath  the  house 
by  the  side  of  his  wife. 


CHAPTER   III 

And  now  we  must  needs  leave  Pertwood  Farm  and 
its  doubly  bereaved  occupant  for  a  while,  in  order  to 
follow  the  fortunes  of  the  self-exiled  Charles.  His 
was  indeed  a  curious  start  in  life.  Absolutely  ignorant 
of  the  world,  his  whole  horizon  at  the  age  of  twenty 
years  bounded  by  that  little  patch  of  lonely  Wiltshire 
down,  and  his  knowledge  of  mankind  confined  to,  at 
the  most,  half  a  dozen  people.  He  had  great  native 
talent,  which,  added  to  an  ability  to  keep  his  own 
counsel,  was  doubtless  of  good  service  to  him  in  this 
breaking  away  into  the  unknown.  His  total  stock  of 
money  amounted  to  less  than  £50,  to  him  an  enormous 
sum,  the  greater  because  he  had  never  yet  known  the 
value  of  money.  His  native  shrewdness,  however,  led 
him  to  husband  it  in  miserly  fashion,  as  being  the  one 
faithful  friend  upon  which  he  could  always  rely. 

And  now  the  salt  strain  in  his  mother's  blood  must 
have  asserted  itself  unmistakably,  if  mysteriously,  for 
straight  as  a  homing  bee  he  made  his  way  down  to  the 
sea,  finding  himself  a  week  after  his  flight  at  Poole. 
I  shall  never  forget  the  look  upon  his  face  as  he  told 
me  how  he  first  felt  when  the  sea  revealed  itself  to 
him.    All  his  unsatisfied  longings,  all  the  heart-wrench 

31 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

of  his  rejected  love,  were  forgotten  in  present  unutter- 
able delight.  He  was  both  hungry  and  weary,  yet  he 
sat  contentedly  down  upon  the  verge  of  the  cliffs  and 
gazed  upon  this  glorious  vision  until  his  eyes  glazed 
with  fatigue,  and  his  body  was  numbed  with  the  im- 
movable restraint  of  his  attitude.  At  last  he  tore 
himself  away,  and  entered  the  town,  seeking  a  humble 
lodging-place,  and  finding  one  exactly  suited  to  his 
needs  in  a  little  country  public-house  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  town,  kept  by  an  apple-cheeked  dame,  whose 
son  was  master  of  a  brigantine  then  lying  in  the  har- 
bour. She  gave  the  handsome  youth  a  motherly  wel- 
come, none  the  less  warm  because  he  appeared  to 
be  well  able  to  pay  his  way. 

Against  the  impregnable  fortress  of  his  reserve  she 
failed  to  make  any  progress  whatever,  although  in  the 
attempt  to  gratify  her  curiosity  she  exerted  every 
simple  art  known  to  her.  On  the  other  hand  he 
learned  many  things,  for  one  of  her  chief  wiles  was 
an  open  confidence  in  him,  an  unreserved  pouring  out 
to  him  of  all  she  knew.  He  was  chiefly  interested  in 
her  stories  of  her  son.  Naturally  she  was  proud  of  that 
big  swarthy  seaman,  who,  when  he  arrived  home  that 
evening,  loomed  so  large  in  the  doorway  that  he  ap- 
peared to  dwarf  the  whole  building.  As  Englishmen 
w'll,  the  two  men  eyed  one  another  suspiciously  at 
first,  until  the  ice  having  been  broken  by  the  fond 
mother,  Charles  in  his  turn  began  to  pump  his  new 
acquaintance.  Captain  Jacks,  delighted  beyond  meas- 
ure to  find  a  virgin  mind  upon  which  to  sow  his  some- 
what threadbare  stock  of  yams,  was  gratified  beyond 

32 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

measure,  and  thenceforward  until  long  after  the  usual 
hour  for  bed,  the  young  man  was  simply  soaking  up 
like  a  sponge  in  the  rain  such  a  store  of  wonders  as 
he  had  never  before  even  dreamed  of.  At  last  the 
old  dame,  somewhat  huffed  by  the  way  in  which 
Charles  had  turned  from  her  garrulity  to  her  son's, 
ordered  them  both  to  bed.  But  Charles  could  not 
sleep.  How  was  it  possible?  The  quiet  monotone 
of  his  life  had  been  suddenly  lifted  into  a  veritable 
Wagner  concert  of  strange  harmonies,  wherein  joy 
and  grief,  pleasure  and  pain,  love  and  hate,  strove  for 
predominance,  and  refused  to  be  hushed  to  rest  even 
by  the  needs  of  his  healthful  weariness. 

Out  of  it  all  one  resolve  arose  towering.  He  would, 
he  must  go  to  sea.  That  alone  could  be  the  career 
for  him.  But  he  would  write  to  Louise.  Knowing 
nothing  of  her  flight  from  the  old  home  or  of  his 
father's  death,  he  felt  that  he  must  endeavour  to  assert 
a  claim  to  her,  more  just  and  defensible  than  his 
brother's,  even  though  she  had  rejected  him.  And 
then,  soothed  by  his  definite  settlement  of  future 
action,  he  fell  asleep,  nor  woke  again  until  roused  by 
his  indignant  landlady's  inquiry  as  to  whether  "  'ee 
wor  gwain  t*  He  abed  arl  daay."  Springing  out  of  bed, 
he  made  his  simple  toilet  in  haste,  coming  down  so 
speedily  that  the  good  old  dame  was  quite  mollified. 
A  hasty  breakfast  ensued,  and  a  hurried  departure  for 
the  harbour  in  search  of  Captain  Jacks'  brigantine. 
Finding  her  after  a  short  search,  he  was  warmly  wel- 
comed by  the  gallant  skipper,  and,  to  his  unbounded 
delight,  succeeded  in  inducing  that  worthy  man  to 

33 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

take  him  as  an  extra  hand  without  pay  on  his  forth- 
coming voyage  to  Newfoundland.  Then  returning  to 
his  lodging,  he  made  his  small  preparations,  and  after 
much  anxious  thought,  produced  the  following  letter, 
which  -he  addressed  to  Louise,  care  of  the  old  doctor 
at  Longbridge. 

"  My  Dearest  Loo, 

"  Though  you  chose  George  instead  of  me 
I  don't  mean  to  give  you  up.  I  mean  to  do  something 
big,  looking  forward  to  you  for  a  prize.  I  believe  you 
love  me  better  than  you  do  George  in  spite  of  what 
you  did.  You  will  never  marry  him,  never.  You'll 
marry  me,  because  you  love  me,  and  I  won't  let  you 
go.  I  know  you'll  get  this  letter,  and  send  me  an 
answer  to  Mrs.  Jacks,  Apple  Row,  Poole.  And  you'll 
wait  for  my  reply,  which  may  be  late  a  coming,  but 
"will  be  sure  to  come. 

"  Yours  till  death, 

"  Charles  Delambre." 

A  few  minutes  afterwards  he  was  on  his  way  down 
to  the  Mary  Jane,  Captain  Jacks'  brigantine.  He  was 
received  with  the  gravity  befitting  a  skipper  on  ship- 
ping a  new  hand,  and  after  bestowing  his  few  purchases 
in  a  cubby-hole  in  the  tiny  cabin,  returned  on  deck  in 
his  shirt-sleeves,  to  take  part  in  whatever  work  was 
going  on,  with  all  the  ardour  of  a  new  recruit.  Next 
morning  at  daylight  the  Mary  Jane  departed.  Under 
the  brilliant  sky  of  June  the  dainty  little  vessel  glided 
out  into  the  Channel,  bounding  forward  before  the 
fresh  north-easterly  breeze,  as  if  rejoicing  to  be  at 

34 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

home  once  more,  and  freed  from  the  restraint  of  moor- 
ing chains  and  the  stagnant  environment  of  a  sheltered 
harbour. 

Charles  took  to  his  new  life  wonderfully,  feeling 
no  qualms  of  sea-sickness,  and  throwing  himself  into 
every  detail  of  the  work  with  such  ardour  that  by  the 
time  they  had  been  out  a  week  he  was  quite  a  useful 
member  of  the  ship's  company.  And  then  there 
arrived  that  phenomenon,  a  June  gale  from  the  north- 
west. Shorn  of  all  her  white  wings  but  one,  the  little 
brigantine  lay  snugly  enough,  fore-reaching  against 
the  mighty  Atlantic  rollers  that  hurled  themselves 
upon  her  like  mountain  ranges  endowed  with  swiftest 
motion.  So  she  lay  throughout  one  long  day  and  far 
into  the  night  succeeding,  until  just  at  that  dread 
hour  of  midnight  when  watchfulness  so  often  suc- 
cumbs to  weariness  at  sea,  a  huge  comber  came  tum- 
bling aboard  as  she  fell  off  into  the  trough  of  the  sea. 
For  a  while  she  seemed  to  be  in  doubt  whether  to 
shake  herself  clear  of  the  foaming  mass,  and  then  splen- 
didly lifting  herself  with  her  sudden  burden  of  a  deck 
filled  with  water,  she  resumed  her  gallant  struggle. 
Just  then  it  was  discovered  that  her  lights  were  gone. 
Before  they  could  be  replaced,  out  of  the  darkness 
came  flying  an  awful  shape,  vast,  swift,  and  merciless. 
One  of  the  splendid  Yankee  fliers  of  those  days,  the 
Columbia,  of  over  a  thousand  tons  register,  was  speed- 
ing eastward  under  every  stitch  of  sail,  at  a  rate  far 
surpassing  that  of  any  but  the  swiftest  steamships.  A 
good  look  out  was  being  kept  on  board  of  her,  for 
those  vessels  were  noted  for  the  excellence  of  their 

35 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

discipline  and  careful  attention  to  duty.  But  the  night 
was  pitchy  dark,  the  Mary  Jane  had  no  light  visible,  and 
before  anything  could  be  done  her  doomed  crew  saw 
the  Columbia's  bow  towering  over  their  vessel's  waist 
like  some  unthinkable  demon  of  destruction.  Up,  up, 
up,  she  soared  above  them,  then  descending,  her 
gleaming  bow  shone  clean  through  the  centre  of  the 
Mary  Jane's  hull,  tearing  with  it  the  top-hamper  of 
masts  and  rigging,  and  rushing  straight  through  the 
wreckage  without  a  perceptible  check.  One  wild  cry 
of  despair  and  all  was  silent.  Over  the  side  of  the 
Columbia  peered  a  row  of  white  faces  gazing  fear- 
fully into  the  gloom,  but  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen. 
The  sea  had  claimed  her  toll. 

As  usual,  after  such  a  calamity,  there  was  a  hushed 
performance  of  tasks,  until  suddenly  one  of  the  crew 
shouted,  "  Why,  here's  a  stranger."  And  there  was. 
Charles  had  clutched  instinctively  at  one  of  the  mar- 
tingale guys  as  the  Columbia  swept  over  her  victim, 
and  had  succeeded  in  climbing  from  thence  on  board 
out  of  the  vortex  of  death  in  which  all  his  late  ship- 
mates had  been  involved.  Plied  with  eager  questions, 
his  simple  story  was  soon  told,  and  he  was  enrolled 
among  the  crew.  The  Columbia  was  bound  to  Genoa, 
a  detail  that  troubled  him  but  little ;  so  long  as  he  was 
at  sea  he  had  no  desire  to  select  his  destination.  But 
he  found  here  a  very  different  state  of  things  obtain- 
ing. The  crew  were  a  hard-bitten,  motley  lot,  prime 
seamen  mostly,  but  "  packet  rats  "  to  a  man,  wastrels 
without  a  thought  in  life  but  how  soon  they  might  get 
from  one  drinking-bout  to  another,  and  at  sea  only 

V  36 . 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

kept  from  mutiny,  and,  indeed,  crime  of  all  kinds,  by 
the  iron  discipline  imposed  upon  them  by  the  stern- 
faced,  sinewy  Americans  who  formed  the  afterguard. 
There  were  no  soft,  sleepy-voiced  orders  given  here. 
Every  command  issued  by  an  officer  came  like  the  bel- 
lowing of  an  angry  bull,  and  if  the  man  or  men  ad- 
dressed did  not  leap  like  cats  to  execute  it,  a  blow  em- 
phasized the  fierce  oath  that  followed, 

Charles  now  learned  what  work  was.  No  languid 
crawling  through  duties  with  one  ear  ever  cocked  for 
the  sound  of  the  releasing  bell,  but  a  rabid  rush  at 
all  tasks,  even  the  simplest,  as  if  upon  its  immediate 
performance  hung  issues  of  life  or  death.  "  Well  fed, 
well  driven,  well  paid,"  v/as  the  motto  on  board  those 
ships,  albeit  there  were  not  wanting  scoundrelly 
skippers  and  officers,  who,  in  ports  where  fresh  hands 
were  to  be  obtained  cheaply,  were  not  above  using  the 
men  so  abominably  that  they  would  desert  and  leave 
all  their  cruelly-earned  wages  behind.  Strangely 
enough,  however,  Charles  became  a  prime  favourite. 
This  son  of  the  soil)  who  might  have  been  expected  to 
move  in  clod-hopper  fashion,  developed  an  amazing 
smartness  which,  allied  to  a  keenness  of  appreciation 
quite  American  in  its  rapidity,  endeared  him  specially 
to  the  officers.  In  the  roaring  fo'c's'le  among  his  half- 
savage  shipmates  he  commanded  respect,  for  in  some 
mysterious  way  he  evolved  masterly  fighting  qualities 
and  dogged  staying  powers  that  gave  him  victory  in 
several  bloody  battles.  So  that  it  came  to  pass,  when 
Genoa  was  reached,  that  Charles  was  one  day  called 
aft  and  informed  that,  if  he  cared  to,  he  might  shift 

4  37 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

his  quarters  aft  and  go  into  training  for  an  officer,  hold- 
ing a  sort  of  brevet  rank  as  supernumerary  third  mate. 
He  accepted,  and  was  transferred,  much  to  the  disgust 
of  his  shipmates  forward,  who  looked  upon  his  move 
aft  as  a  sort  of  desertion  to  the  enemy.  But  they 
knew  Charles  too  well  to  proceed  further  with  their 
enmity  than  cursing  him  among  themselves,  so  that 
as  much  peace  as  usual  was  kept. 

From  this  port  Charles  wrote  lengthily  to  Louise 
at  Longbridge  as  before,  and  to  Poole  to  Mrs.  Jacks, 
breaking  her  great  misfortune  to  her,  and  begging  her 
to  write  to  him  and  send  him  at  New  York  any  letters 
that  might  have  arrived  for  him.  And  then  he  turned 
contentedly  to  his  work  again,  allowing  it  to  engross 
every  thought.  He  was  no  mere  dreamer  of  dreams, 
this  young  man.  In  his  mind  there  was  a  solid  settled 
conviction  that,  sooner  or  later  (and  it  did  not  greatly 
matter  which),  he  would  attain  the  object  of  his  desires. 
This  granitic  foundation  of  faith  in  his  future  saved 
him  all  mental  trouble,  and  enabled  him  to  devote  all 
his  energies  to  the  work  in  hand,  to  the  great  satisfac- 
tion of  his  skipper.  Captain  Lothrop,  indeed,  looked 
upon  this  young  Englishman  with  no  ordinary  favour, 
A  typical  American  himself,  of  the  best  school,  he  con- 
cealed under  a  languid  demeanour  energy  as  of  an  un- 
loosed whirlwind.  His  face  was  long,  oval,  and  olive- 
brown,  with  black  silky  beard  and  moustache  trimmed 
like  one  of  Velasquez's  cavaliers,  and  black  eyes  that, 
usually  expressionless  as  balls  of  black  marble,  would, 
upon  occasion  given,  dart  rays  of  terrible  fire.  Con- 
trasted with  this  saturnine  stately  personage,  the  fair, 

38 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

ruddy  Charles  looked  like  some  innocent  schoolboy, 
the  open,  confiding  air  he  bore  being  most  deceptive. 
He  picked  up  seamanship,  too,  in  marvellous  fashion, 
the  sailorizing  that  counts,  by  virtue  of  which  a  seaman 
handles  a  thousand-ton  ship  as  if  she  were  a  toy  and 
every  one  of  her  crew  but  an  incarnation  of  his  will. 
But  this  very  ability  of  his  before  long  aroused  a  spirit 
of  envy  in  his  two  brother  officers  that  would  have 
been  paralyzing  to  a  weaker  man.  Here,  again,  the 
masterly  discipline  of  the  American  merchantman 
came  to  his  aid,  a  discipline  that  does  not  know  of  such 
hideous  folly  as  allowing  jealousy  between  officers  be- 
ing paraded  before  the  crew,  so  that  they  with  native 
shrewdness  may  take  advantage  of  the  house  divided 
against  itself.  When  in  an  American  ship  one  sees  a 
skipper  openly  deriding  an  officer,  be  sure  that  officer's 
days  as  an  officer  are  numbered ;  he  is  about  to  be  re- 
duced to  the  ranks.    So,  in  spite  of  a  growing  hatred 

to  the Britisher,  the  two  senior  mates  allowed  no 

sign  of  their  feelings  to  be  manifested  before  the  crew. 
Perhaps  the  old  man  was  a  bit  injudicious  also.  He 
would  yarn  with  Charles  by  the  hour  about  the  old 
farm  and  the  sober,  uneventful  routine  of  English  rural 
life,  the  recital  of  these  placid  stories  evidently  giving 
him  the  purest  pleasure  by  sheer  contrast  with  his  own 
stormy  career. 

In  due  time  the  stay  of  the  Columbia  at  Genoa  came 
to  an  end,  and  backward  she  sailed  for  New  York. 
In  masterly  fashion  she  was  manoeuvred  out  through 
the  Gut  of  Gibraltar,  and  sped  with  increased  rapidity 
into  the  broad  Atlantic.    But  it  was  now  nearly  win- 

39 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

ter,  and  soon  the  demon  of  the  west  wind  made  his 
power  felt.  The  gale  settled  down  steadily  to  blow 
for  weeks  apparently,  and  with  dogged  perseverance 
the  Columbia's  crew  fought  against  it.  Hail,  snow, 
and  ice  scourged  them,  canvas  became  like  planks, 
ropes  as  bars  of  iron.  Around  the  bows  arose  masses 
of  ice  like  a  rampart,  and  from  the  break  of  the  fore- 
castle hung  icicles  which  grew  like  mushrooms  in  a 
few  hours  of  night.  The  miserable  crew  were  worn  to 
the  bone  with  fatigue  and  cold,  and  had  they  been  fed 
as  British  crews  of  such  ships  are  fed  they  would 
doubtless  have  all  died.  But,  in  spite  of  their  suffer- 
ings, they  worked  on  until  one  night,  having  to  make 
all  possible  sail  to  a  "  slant "  of  wind,  they  were  all  on 
deck  together  at  eight  bells — midnight.  With  the 
usual  celerity  practised  in  these  ships,  the  snowy 
breadths  of  canvas  were  rising  one  above  the  other, 
and  the  Columbia  was  being  flung  forward  in  lively 
fashion  over  the  still  heavy  waves,  when  Charles,  who 
was  standing  right  forward  on  the  forecastle,  shouted 
in  a  voice  that  could  be  heard  distinctly  above  the 
roar  of  the  wind  and  sea  and  the  cries  of  the  seamen, 
"  Hard  down  !  "  Mechanically  the  helmsman  obeyed, 
hardly  knowing  whither  the  summons  came,  and  the 
beautiful  vessel  swung  up  into  the  wind,  catching  all 
her  sails  aback,  and  grinding  her  way  past  some 
frightful  obstruction  to  leeward  that  looked  as  if  an 
abyss  of  darkness  had  suddenly  yawned  in  the  middle 
of  the  sea,  along  the  rim  of  which  the  Columbia  was 
cringing.  The  tremendous  voice  of  Captain  Lothrop 
boomed  out  through  the  darkness,  "  What  d'ye  see, 

40 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

Mister  Delamber,  forrard  there  ?  "  "  We've  struck  a 
derelict,  sir,"  roared  Charles,  and  his  words  sounded  in 
the  ears  of  the  ship's  company  like  the  summons  of 
doom.  The  ship  faltered  in  her  swing  to  windward, 
refused  to  obey  her  helm,  and  swung  off  the  wind 
again  slowly  but  surely,  as  if  being  dragged  down  into 
unknown  depths  by  an  invisible  hand  whose  grip  was 
like  that  of  death. 


CHAPTER  IV 

In  this  hour  of  paralyzing  uncertainty  Charles  rose 
to  the  full  height  of  his  manhood.  Passing  the  word 
for  a  lantern,  and  slinging  himself  in  a  bowline,  he 
ventured  into  the  blackness  alongside,  and  presently 
reappeared  with  the  cheering  news  that  no  damage 
was  done.  A  few  strokes  of  an  axe  and  they  would 
be  set  free.  And  arming  himself  with  a  broad  axe,  he 
again  disappeared  into  the  outer  dark,  this  time  under 
the  watchful  eye  of  the  skipper,  and  presently,  with 
a  movement  which  was  like  a  throb  of  returning  life 
to  every  soul  on  board,  the  Columbia  regained  her 
freedom.  Charles  was  hauled  on  board  through  the 
surf  alongside  like  a  sodden  bundle  of  clothing,  un- 
hurt, but  entirely  exhausted,  having  made  good  his 
claim  to  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  world's  silent  heroes, 
a  man  who  to  the  call  of  duty  returns  no  dubious 
answer,  but  renders  swift  obedience. 

This  last  adventure  seemed  to  exhaust  the  Colum- 
bia's budget  of  ill-luck  for  the  voyage.    Although  the 

41 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

wind  was  never  quite  fair,  it  allowed  them  to  work 
gradually  over  to  the  westward,  and  with  its  change 
a  little  more  genial  weather  was  vouchsafed  to  them. 
They  arrived  in  New  York  without  further  incident 
worthy  of  notice,  and  Charles  found  himself  not  only 
the  guest  of  the  skipper,  but  honoured  by  the  owner, 
who,  as  an  old  skipper  himself,  was  fully  alive  to  the 
glowing  account  given  him  by  Captain  Lothrop  of 
Charles's  services  to  the  Columbia.  The  other  two 
officers  left  early,  and  Charles,  now  a  full-blown  sec- 
ond mate,  saw  his  prize  almost  within  his  grasp.  The 
more  so  that  a  letter  (only  one)  awaited  him ;  it  was 
from  Louise,  and  contained  only  these  words — 

"  Dear  Charles, 

"  It  is  that  I  am  yours.  Whenever  it  shall 
please  you  to  come  for  me,  I  am  ready.  I  leave  the 
house  to  the  day  of  your  parting,  for  your  father  is 
dead  immediately,  and  I  go  not  there  any  more.  I 
wait  for  you  only. 

"  Louise." 

He  accepted  this  news  with  perfect  calmness,  as  of 
one  who  knew  that  it  would  come,  and  turned  again 
to  his  work  with  a  zest  as  unlike  that  of  a  love-sick 
youth  as  any  one  ever  saw.  Not  a  word  did  he  say 
of  his  aflfairs  even  to  his  good  friend  the  skipper,  and 
when,  their  stay  in  New  York  at  an  end,  they  sailed 
for  China,  that  worthy  man  was  revolving  all  sorts  of 
projects  in  his  mind  for  an  alliance  between  Charles 
and  his  wife's  sister,  who,  during  Charles'  stay  in  New 
York,  had  manifested  no  small  degree  of  interest  in 

42 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

the  stalwart,  ruddy  young  Englishman.  He,  however, 
took  no  advantage  of  the  obviously  proffered  oppor- 
tunity, and  in  due  course  the  Columbia  sailed  for  Hong 
Kong,  petroleum  laden.  Captain  Lothrop  carried  his 
wife  with  him  this  voyage,  and  very  homely  indeed 
the  ship  appeared  with  the  many  trifles  added  to  her 
cabin  by  feminine  taste.  A  new  mate  and  third  mate 
were  also  shipped — the  former  a  gigantic  Kentuckian, 
with  a  fist  like  a  shoulder  of  mutton,  a  voice  like  a 
wounded  buffalo  bull,  and  a  heart  as  big  and  soft  as 
ever  dwelt  in  the  breast  of  mortal  man.  Yet,  strangely 
enough,  he  was  a  terror  to  the  crew.  Long  training 
in  the  duty  of  running  a  ship  "  packet  fashion  "  had 
made  him  so,  made  him  regard  the  men  under  his 
charge  as  if  they  were  wild  beasts,  who  needed  keep- 
ing tame  by  many  stripes  and  constant,  unremitting 
toil.  The  third  mate  was  a  Salem  man,  tall  enough, 
but  without  an  ounce  of  superfluous  flesh  on  his  gaunt 
frame.  He  seemed  built  of  steel  wire,  so  tireless  and 
insensible  to  pain  was  he.  With  these  two  worthies 
Charles  was  at  home  at  once.  Good  men  themselves, 
they  took  to  him  on  the  spot  as  an  Englishman  of  the 
best  sort,  who  is  always  beloved  by  Yankees — that  is, 
genuine  Americans — and  loves  them  in  return  in  no 
half-hearted  fashion. 

It  was  well  for  them  all  that  this  solidarity  obtained 
among  them,  for  they  shipped  a  crowd  in  New  York 
of  all  nationalities,  except  Americans  or  English,  a 
gang  that  looked  as  if  they  had  stepped  direct  from 
the  deck  of  a  pirate  to  take  service  on  board  the 
Columbia.    The  skipper  was  as  brave  a  man  as  ever 

43 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

trod  a  quarter-deck ;  but  his  wife  was  aboard,  and  his 
great  love  made  him  nervous.  He  suggested  at  once 
that  each  of  his  officers  should  never  be  without  a 
loaded  six-shooter  in  their  hip-pockets  by  night  or 
day,  and  that  they  should  watch  that  crowd  as  the 
trainer  watches  his  cage  of  performing  tigers.  Fortu- 
nately the  men  were  all  prime  seamen,  and  full  of 
spring,  while  the  perfect  discipline  maintained  on 
board  from  the  outset  did  not  permit  of  any  loafing 
about,  which  breeds  insolence  as  well  as  laziness,  that 
root  of  mischief  at  sea.  So,  in  spite  of  incessant  labour 
and  the  absence  of  any  privileges  whatever,  the  peace 
was  kept  until  the  ship,  after  a  splendid  passage  of 
one  hundred  days,  Avas  running  up  the  China  Sea 
under  as  much  canvas  as  she  could  drag  to  the  heavy 
south-west  monsoon.  All  the  watch  were  busy  greas- 
ing down,  it  being  Saturday,  and,  unlike  most  English 
ships,  where,  for  fear  of  the  men  grumbling,  this  most 
filthy  but  necessary  work  is  done  by  the  boys  or  the 
quiet  men  of  the  crew,  here  everybody  took  a  hand, 
and  the  job  was  done  in  about  twenty  minutes  from  the 
word  "  go."  A  huge  Greek  was  busy  at  the  mizzen- 
topmast,  his  grease-pot  slung  to  his  belt,  when  sud- 
denly the  pot  parted  company  with  him  and  fell,  plen- 
tifully bespattering  sails  and  rigging  as  it  bounded 
and  rebounded  on  its  way  down,  until  at  last  it 
smashed  upon  the  cabin  skylight  and  deposited  the  bal- 
ance of  its  contents  all  around. 

"  Come  down  here,  ye  Dago  beast !  "  bellowed  the 
mate.  Slowly,  too  slowly,  'Tonio  obeyed.  Hardly 
had  he  dropped  from  the  rigging  on  to  the  top  of  the 

44 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

house  when  Mr.  Shelby  seized  him  by  the  throat,  and, 
in  spite  of  his  bulk  (he  was  almost  as  big  as  the  mate 
himself),  dragged  him  to  the  skylight,  and,  forcing 
his  head  down,  actually  rubbed  his  face  in  the  foul 
mess.  'Tonio  struggled  in  silence,  but  unavailingly, 
until  the  mate  released  him ;  then,  with  a  spring  like 
a  lion's,  he  leaped  at  his  tormentor,  a  long  knife,  never 
seen  till  then,  gleaming  in  his  left  hand.  Mr.  Shelby 
met  him  halfway  with  a  kick  which  caught  his  left 
elbow,  paralyzing  his  arm,  the  knife  dropping  point 
downwards  and  sticking  in  the  deck.  But  the  fracas 
was  the  signal  for  a  general  outbreak.  The  helmsman 
sprang  from  the  wheel,  the  rest  of  the  watch  slid  down 
backstays,  and  came  rushing  aft,  bent  on  murder,  all 
their  long  pent-up  hatred  of  authority  brought  to  a 
climax  by  the  undoubted  outrage  perpetrated  upon  one 
of  their  number.  But  they  met  with  a  man.  His  back 
to  the  mizzen-mast,  Mr.  Shelby 'whipped  out  his  re- 
volver, and,  as  coolly  as  if  engaged  in  a  day's  par- 
tridge-shooting ashore,  he  fired  barrel  after  barrel  of 
his  weapon  at  the  rushing  savages.  Up  came  the  skip- 
per and  the  other  two  officers,  not  a  moment  too  soon. 
A  hairy  Spaniard  clutched  at  Charles  as  he  appeared 
on  deck,  but  that  sturdy  son  of  the  soil  grappled  with 
his  enemy  so  felly,  that  in  a  few  heart-beats  the  body 
of  the  Latin  went  hurtling  over  the  side.  Then  the 
fight  became  general.  The  ship,  neglected,  swung  up 
into  the  wind  and  was  caught  aback,  behaving  herself 
in  the  fashion  of  a  wounded  animal,  while  the  higher 
race,  outnumbered  by  four  to  one,  set  its  teeth  and 
fought  in  primitive  style.    The  groans  of  the  wounded, 

45 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

the  hissing  oaths  of  the  combatants,  and  the  crack  of 
revolver  shots  made  up  a  lurid  weft  to  the  warp  of 
sound  provided  by  the  moaning  wind  and  murmuring 
sea.  Then  gradually  those  of  the  men  who  could  do 
so  crawled  forrard,  leaving  the  bright  yellow  of  the 
painted  deck  aft  all  besmeared  with  red,  and  the  victory 
was  won  for  authority. 

But  a  new  danger  threatened.  Attracted,  perhaps, 
like  vultures,  by  the  smell  of  blood,  several  evil-look- 
ing junks  were  closing  in  upon  the  Columbia,  and  but 
for  the  tremendous  exertions  of  the  officers,  aided  by 
the  cook  and  steward  and  the  captain's  wife,  who,  pale 
but  resolute,  took  the  wheel,  there  is  no  doubt  that  the 
Columbia  would  have  been  added  to  the  list  of  missing 
ships.  That  peril  was  averted  by  the  ship  being  got 
before  the  wind  again,  when  her  speed  soon  told,  and 
she  hopelessly  out-distanced  the  sneaking,  clumsy 
junks.  And  before  sunset  a  long  smear  of  smoke 
astern  resolved  itself  into  one  of  the  smart  little  gun- 
boats which,  under  the  splendid  St.  George's  Cross, 
patrol  those  dangerous  seas.  In  answer  to  signals,  she 
came  alongside  the  Columbia,  and  soon  a  boat's  crew 
of  lithe  men-o'-war's-men  were  on  board  the  American 
ship,  making  all  secure  for  her  safe  passage  into  Hong 
Kong.  There  she  arrived  two  days  later,  and  got  rid 
of  her  desperate  crew,  with  the  exception  of  two  who 
had  paid  for  their  rash  attempt  the  only  price  they 
had — their  lives. 

From  Hong  Kong  the  Columbia  sailed  for  Lon- 
don, arriving  there  after  an  uneventful  passage  of  one 
hundred  and  twenty  days.     Charles,  turning  a  deaf 

46 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

ear  to  the  entreaties  of  the  captain  and  his  fellow- 
officers,  determined  to  take  his  discharge.  A  load- 
stone of  which  they  knew  not  anything  was  drawing 
him  irresistibly  into  the  heart  of  Wiltshire,  and,  with 
all  his  earnings  carefully  secreted  about  him,  he  left 
the  great  city  behind,  and  set  his  face  steadfastly  for 
Longbridge  Deverill.  There  he  suddenly  arrived,  as 
if  he  had  dropped  from  the  sky,  just  as  the  short  win- 
ter's day  was  closing  in.  The  few  straggling  villagers 
peered  curiously  at  the  broad,  alert  figure  that  strode 
along  the  white  road  with  an  easy  grace  and  manly 
bearing  quite  foreign  to  the  heavy  slouch  of  their  own 
men-folk.  There  was,  too,  an  indefinable  foreign 
odour  about  him  which  cut  athwart  even  their  dull  per- 
ceptions and  aroused  all  their  curiosity.  But  none 
recognized  him.  How  should  they  ?  They  had  hardly 
ever  known  him,  except  by  rumour,  which,  during  his 
absence  of  nearly  two  years,  had  died  a  natural  death 
for  want  of  something  to  feed  upon.  Straight  to  the 
old  doctor's  house  he  went  as  a  homing  pigeon  would. 
To  his  confident  knock  there  appeared  at  the  door 
Louise,  the  light  of  love  in  her  eyes,  her  arms  out- 
stretched in  gladdest  welcome.  Neither  showed  any 
surprise,  for  both  seemed  to  have  been  in  some  un- 
explainable  way  in  communion  with  the  other.  Yet, 
now  the  first  speechless  greeting  over,  the  first  ca- 
resses bestowed,  instead  of  contentment  most  pro- 
found came  unease,  an  indefinite  fear  lest  this  wonder- 
ful thing  that  had  befallen  them  should  by  the  sheer 
perversity  of  fate  be  swept  away,  leaving  them  in  the 
outer  dark. 

47 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

The  quavering  voice  of  the  old  doctor  removed 
them  from  each  other's  close  embrace,  and  shyly,  yet 
with  a  proud  air  of  ownership,  Louise  led  the  way  into 
the  cosy  parlour,  where  the  good  old  man  sat  enjoying 
the  rest  and  comfort  he  so  fully  deserved.  He  looked 
up  inquiringly  as  with  dazzled  eyes  the  big  man  en- 
tered the  room,  hesitatingly,  and  with  a  rush  of  strange 
memories  flooding  his  brain. 

"  Who  is  it,  Loo  ?  "  said  the  doctor.  "  I  don't  rec- 
ognize the  gentleman." 

And,  rising  stiffly  from  his  armchair,  he  took  a  step 
forward. 

"  It's  Charles,  doctor,  Charles  Delambre,"  faltered 
Louise. 

"  Yes,  doctor ;  and  I've  come  to  take  away  your 
treasure.  Also  to  thank  you  with  my  whole  heart 
for  your  loving  kindness  in  taking  care  of  her.  With- 
out you  what  would  she  have  done,  me  being  so  far 
away  ?  " 

Almost  inarticulate  with  joy,  the  old  man  caught 
Charles's  hands  in  both  his  own,  and  pushed  him  into 
a  chair.  Then  sinking  back  into  his  own,  he  gasped 
breathlessly — 

"  Ah,  my  boy,  my  boy,  how  I  have  longed  for  your 
return !  It  has  given  me  more  pain  than  you  can 
think — the  idea  that  I  might  die  and  leave  this  poor 
child  friendless  and  alone  in  the  world.  But  she  has 
had  no  fear.  She  knew  you  would  come,  and  she  was 
right.  But,  Charley,  my  boy,  before  we  say  another 
word — your  brother.  You  mustn't  forget  him,  and  if, 
as  I  fear,  your  quarrel  was  fierce,  you  must  forgive. 

48 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

His  sufferings  have  been  great.  Never  once  has  his 
face  been  seen  in  the  village  since  you  left,  and,  except 
that  we  hear  an  occasional  word  of  him  brought  by  a 
tramp,  he  might  be  dead.  Go  to  him,  Charles,  and 
make  it  up,  and  perhaps  the  good  Lord  will  lift  the 
cloud  of  misery  that  has  so  long  hung  heavily  over 
your  house." 

Charles  heard  the  kindly  doctor's  little  speech  in 
respectful  silence,  then,  speaking  for  the  second  time 
since  entering  the  house,  he  said — 

"  You  are  right,  doctor.  I  will  be  friends  with 
George  if  he'll  let  me.  But  I  must  first  secure  my  wife. 
After  all  that  has  passed,  I  dare  not  waste  an  hour  until 
we  are  married." 

Louise  sat  listening  with  the  light  of  perfect  ap- 
proval on  her  fine  face ;  and  the  doctor  also  in  vigorous 
fashion  signified  his  entire  acquiescence.  The  rest  of 
that  happy  evening  was  devoted  to  a  recital  of  Charles's 
wanderings,  his  escapes,  and  his  good  fortune,  until, 
wearied  out,  those  three  happy  people  went  to  bed. 

Next  day  Charles  was  busy.  A  special  license  had 
to  be  procured,  and  Louise  must  procure  her  simple 
wedding  array.  The  facilities  of  to-day  did  not  exist 
then,  and  the  impatient  young  lover  chafed  consider- 
ably at  the  delay  involved.  But  in  due  time  the  wed- 
ding came  off,  with  the  dear  old  doctor  as  guardian 
to  give  the  bride  away.  The  village  was  in  a  state 
of  seething  excitement ;  the  labourers  left  their  work, 
their  wives  left  their  household  tasks,  and  all  discussed 
with  an  eagerness  that  was  amazingly  different  to  their 
usual  stolidity  of  demeanour  the  romantic  happenings 

49 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

in  their  midst.  Then,  when  the  newly-married  pair 
had  returned  to  the  doctor's  roomy  house,  and  the 
villagers  had  drifted  reluctantly  homeward  again,  the 
ripples  of  unwonted  disturbance  gradually  smoothed 
out  and  subsided.  Charles  and  his  wife  sat  side  by  side 
in  the  doctor's  parlour  as  the  evening  shadows  fell, 
their  benefactor's  glowing  face  confronting  them,  and 
the  knowledge  that  half  his  home  was  theirs  removing 
all  anxiety  for  the  immediate  future  from  their  minds. 

They  sat  thus,  holding  each  other's  hands  in  si- 
lence, until  Louise,  looking  up  in  her  husband's  face, 
said,  "  Charles,  let  us  go  and  see  George.  I  feel  I  must 
before  I  sleep."  And  Charles  answered,  "  Yes,  dear ; 
it  was  in  my  heart  too  to  do  so,  but  I'm  glad  you  spoke 
first."  So,  gently  disregarding  the  remonstrances  of 
the  doctor,  who  protested  that  the  morrow  would  be 
a  more  appropriate  time,  they  departed,  warmly 
wrapped  up  against  the  piercing  cold,  and  carrying 
a  lantern.  As  they  passed  from  the  village  on  to  the 
shoulder  of  the  swelling  down  a  few  soft  snow-flakes 
began  to  fall.  .  .  . 

All  through  that  night  the  large  round  flakes  fell 
heavily  incessantly,  until,  when  the  pale  cold  dawn 
straggled  through  the  leaden  clouds,  the  whole  country 
was  deep  buried  in  a  smooth  garment  of  spotless 
white.  For  three  days  the  terrible,  silent  fall  went  on. 
The  poor  folk  almost  starved  in  their  homes,  and  all 
traffic  throughout  the  country  was  stopped.  When  at 
last  communications  could  be  opened,  the  old  doctor, 
his  heart  aching  with  worry  and  suspense,  made  his 
way,  accompanied  by  my  father,  to  Pertwood  Farm. 

50 


The  Old  House  on  the  Hill 

There  they  found  only  a  few  hastily  scribbled  sheets  of 
paper  on  the  kitchen  table.  They  contained  words 
to  the  effect  that  George  had  been  startled  by  a  long 
wailing  cry  at  a  late  hour  on  the  night  of  the  first 
snow.  He  had  gone  to  the  door,  and  there,  on  the 
very  spot  where  she  had  lain  years  before,  was  his 
lost  love.  But  this  time  she  was  dead.  He  had  buried 
her  by  the  side  of  his  parents,  and  hoped  to  join  the 
party  soon. 

A  little  search  revealed  the  fact  that  after  writing 
those  lines  he  had  gone  down  into  the  cellar  and  died, 
for  his  body  lay  across  the  rude  box  containing  the 
remains  of  Louise.  But  of  Charles  nothing  was  ever 
again  seen  or  heard.  /  have  always  felt  that  he  might 
have  been  found  at  the  bottom  of  that  dank  tarn  among 
the  pines,  into  which  he  may  have  fallen  on  that  ter- 
rible night.     But  I  don't  know,  the  mystery  remains. 


51 


YOU     SING 

CHAPTER  I 

Regarded  collectively,  the  Chinese  may  safely  be 
classified  under  the  head  of  unpleasant  races.  Most 
people  who  have  had  personal  dealings  with  them  will 
doubtless  admit  that,  while  there  are  to  be  discovered 
among  them  a  tiny  sprinkling  of  really  decent  men 
and  women,  taken  "  by  and  large  "  they  are,  to  West- 
erns at  any  rate,  anathema.  And  yet,  when  due  allow- 
ance is  made  for  environment,  and  for  hereditary  pecu- 
liarities of  many  strange  kinds — for  which,  of  course, 
the  individual  is  in  no  way  responsible — it  may  not  be 
too  bold  an  assertion  that  the  Chinese  are  a  people  who 
only  need  a  little  real  leadership  on  Western  lines  to 
become  a  truly  great  nation.  They  possess  all  the 
necessary  qualifications  for  such  a  splendid  future  and 
few  of  the  drawbacks.  Many  virtues  that  are  among 
us  only  inculcated  by  much  laborious  tuition  are  with 
the  Chinese  sui  generis.  No  one  will  deny  that  they 
know  how  to  die ;  were  it  possible  to  teach  them  how 
to  live,  such  a  revolution  would  be  felt  in  the  progress 
of  the  world  as  it  has  never  yet  witnessed.  Of  course, 
this  does  not  touch  the  vast  question  as  to  whether 
such  a  resurrection  of  China  is  to  be  welcomed  or 
dreaded, 

5  S3 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

But  my  intention  in  these  pages  is  far  from  that  of 
discussing  the  economic  future  of  China.  Such  a  task 
would  be  indefinitely  beyond  my  powers,  besides  being 
utterly  unnecessary  and  out  of  place  here.  Besides, 
I  do  not  really  feel  sufficiently  interested  in  the  Chi- 
nese collectively.  My  story  is  about  a  single  China- 
man who  played  a  very  important  part  in  my  own  his- 
tory, and  who  well  deserved  a  far  more  powerful  testi- 
mony than  any  I  am  able  to  bear  to  his  virtues. 

But,  first,  in  order  to  launch  my  story  properly,  I 
must  premise  that  in  one  of  my  vagrom  voyages, 
while  I  was  only  a  puny  lad  of  thirteen,  I  was  flung 
ashore  in  Liverpool,  penniless,  and,  of  course,  friend- 
less. For  many  days  I  lived — or,  rather,  I  did  not  die 
— by  picking  up,  bird-like,  such  unvalued  trifles  of  food 
as  chance  threw  in  my  way  while  I  wandered  about  the 
docks;  but  as  there  were  many  more  experienced  ur- 
chins with  sharper  eyes  than  mine  on  the  same  keen 
quest,  it  may  be  well  imagined  that  I  did  not  wax 
overfat  upon  my  findings.  Unfortunately  my  seafar- 
ing instincts  kept  me  near  the  docks  at  all  times,  where 
most  of  my  associates  were  as  hunger-bitten  as  myself ; 
had  I  gone  up  town  I  should  probably  have  fared 
better. 

However,  I  had  put  a  very  keen  edge  indeed  upon 
my  appetite  one  bitter  November  afternoon,  when, 
prowling  along  the  Coburg  Dock  Quay,  I  was  sud- 
denly brought  up  "  all  standing  "  by  a  most  madden- 
ing smell  of  soup.  With  dilated  nostrils  I  drew  in  the 
fragrant  breeze,  and  immediately  located  its  source  as 
the  galley  of  a  barque  that  lay  near,  loading.     I  must 

54 


You  Sing 


have  looked  hungry  as  I  swiftly  came  alongside  of  her, 
for  the  broad-faced  cook,  who  was  standing  at  his 
galley-door  swabbing  his  steaming  face  after  his  sultry 
sojourn  within,  presently  caught  sight  of  me  and  lifted 
a  beckoning  finger.  I  was  by  his  side  in  two  bounds, 
and  before  I  had  quite  realized  my  good  fortune  I  was 
loading  up  at  a  great  rate  from  a  comfortably-sized 
dish  of  plum  soup.  My  benefactor  said  nothing  as  the 
eager  spoonfuls  passed,  but  lolled  against  the  door 
placidly  regarding  me  with  much  the  same  expression 
as  one  would  a  hungry  dog  with  a  just-discovered 
bone.  When  at  last  I  was  well  distended,  he  asked 
me  a  few  questions  in  a  queer  broken  English  that  I 
immediately  recognized  as  the  German  version.  What 
was  I  ?  Where  did  I  come  from  ?  Would  I  like  to 
go  to  sea?  And  so  on.  Eagerly  and  hopefully  I 
answered  him,  much  to  his  amazement ;  for,  like  every 
other  seaman  I  fell  in  with  in  those  days,  he  found  it 
hard  to  believe  that  I  had  already  been  nearly  two 
years  at  sea,  so  small  and  weak  did  I  appear.  But  the 
upshot  of  our  interview  was  that  he  introduced  me  to 
the  skipper,  a  burly  North  German,  who,  looking 
stolidly  down  upon  me,  between  the  regular  puffs  of 
smoke  from  his  big  pipe,  said — 

"  Veil,  poy ;  ju  dinks  ju  like  du  komm  in  a  Cher- 
man  scheep — hein  ?  " 

I  faltered  out  a  few  words,  not  very  coherently,  I 
am  afraid,  for  the  prospect  of  getting  any  ship  at  all 
was  just  like  a  glimpse  of  heaven  to  me.  Fortunately 
for  my  hopes,  Captain  Strauss  was  a  man  of  action,  so, 
cutting  short  my  faltering  reply,  he  resumed :  "  All 

55 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

righdt.  Ve  yoost  loosd  a  leedle  Engelsch  boy  lige 
ju.  He  pin  mit  me  more  as  ein  jeer,  gabin-poy, 
und  mein  vife  lige  him  fery  veil.  Ju  do  so  goor 
as  him,  ju  vas  all  righdt.  Vat  ju  call  jorselluf — 
hein?" 

"  Tom,  sir,"  I  answered  promptly. 

"  Ya ;  den  ve  call  ju  Dahn.  Dat  oder  poy  ve  calls 
Dahn,  und  so  ju  gomes  all  der  same  for  him — aind 
it?" 

That  seemed  to  settle  the  matter,  for  he  turned 
away  abruptly  and  was  gone.  I  hastened  to  my  friend 
the  cook,  and  told  him  what  the  skipper  had  said, 
with  the  result  that  in  another  five  minutes  I  was 
busy  laying  the  cloth  for  dinner  in  the  cabin  as  if  I 
had  been  the  original  Dan  just  come  back.  A  pretty, 
fair-haired  little  girl  of  about  ten  years  of  age  watched 
me  curiously  from  a  state-room  door  with  the  frank, 
straightforward  curiosity  of  a  child ;  and  I,  boy-like, 
was  on  my  mettle  to  show  her  how  well  I  could  do  my 
work.  Presently  she  came  forward  and  spoke  to  me ; 
but  her  remarks  being  in  German,  I  could  only  smile 
feebly  and  look  foolish ;  whereupon  she  indignantly 
snapped  out,  "  Schaafskopf,"  and  ran  away.  She  re- 
turned almost  directly  with  her  mother,  a  buxom, 
placid-looking  dame  of  about  thirty-five,  who  ad- 
dressed me  in  a  dignified  tone.  Again  I  was  in  a 
hole,  for  she  spoke  only  German  also ;  and  if  ever  a 
poor  urchin  felt  nonplussed,  I  did.  This  drawback 
made  my  berth  an  uncomfortable  one  at  first ;  but,  with 
such  opportunities  as  I  had  and  such  a  powerful  in- 
ducement to  spur  me  on,  I  soon  picked  up  enough 

56 


You  Sing 


to  understand  what  was  said  to  me,  and  to  make  some 
suitable  reply. 

The  vessel  was  a  smart-looking,  well-found  barque 
of  about  six  hundred  tons,  called  the  Blitzen,  of  Ros- 
tock, and  carried  a  crew  of  fourteen  all  told.  Each 
of  the  other  thirteen  was  a  master  of  mine,  and  seldom 
allowed  an  opportunity  to  slip  of  asserting  his  au- 
thority ;  while  the  skipper's  wife  and  daughter  evi- 
dently believed  that  I  ought  to  be  perpetually  in  mo- 
tion. Consequently  my  berth  was  no  sinecure ;  and, 
whatever  my  qualifications  may  have  been,  I  have  no 
doubt  I  earned  my  food  and  the  tiny  triangular  lair 
under  the  companion-ladder  wherein  I  crept — I  was 
going  to  say  when  my  work  was  done — but  a  rather 
better  term  to  use  would  be,  in  the  short  intervals  be- 
tween jobs. 

Now,  the  story  of  the  next  nine  months  on  board 
the  Blitzen  is  by  no  means  devoid  of  interest ;  but  I 
have  an  uneasy  feeling  that  I  have  already  tried  the 
reader's  patience  enough  with  necessary  preliminaries 
to  the  story  of  You  Sing.  After  calling  at  several 
ports  in  South  America,  looking  in  at  Algoa  Bay,  visit- 
ing Ban  joe  wangle  and  Cheribon,  we  finally  appeared 
to  have  settled  down  as  a  Chinese  coaster,  trading  be- 
tween all  sorts  of  out-of-the-way  ports  for  native  con- 
signees, and  carrying  a  queer  assortment  of  merchan- 
dise. Finally  we  found  ourselves  at  Amoy,  under 
charter  for  Ilo-Ilo  with  a  full  cargo  of  Chinese  "  no- 
tions." Owing,  I  suppose,  to  the  docility  of  the  Ger- 
man crew,  and  the  high  state  of  discipline  maintained 
on  board,  we  still  carried  the  same  crew  that  we  left 

57 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

England  with;  but  I  must  say  that,  while  I  admired 
the  good  seamanship  displayed  by  the  skipper  and  his 
officers,  I  was  heartily  weary  of  my  lot  on  board.  I 
had  never  become  a  favourite,  not  even  with  the  little 
girl,  who  seemed  to  take  a  delight  in  imitating  her 
father  and  mother  by  calling  me  strange-sounding 
Teutonic  names  of  opprobrium;  and  I  was  beaten 
regularly,  not  apparently  from  any  innate  brutality,  but 
from  sheer  force  of  habit,  as  a  London  costermonger 
beats  his  faithful  donkey.  The  only  thing  that  made 
life  at  all  tolerable  was  that  I  was  fairly  well  fed  and 
enjoyed  robust  health ;  while  I  never  lost  the  hope  that 
in  some  of  our  wanderings  we  should  happen  into  an 
English  port,  where  I  might  be  able  to  run  away. 
That  blissful  idea  I  kept  steadily  before  me  as  a 
beacon-light  to  cheer  me  on.  Happily,  dread  of  los- 
ing my  wages  in  such  an  event  did  not  trouble  me, 
because  I  had  none  to  lose  as  far  as  I  knew;  I  did  not 
stipulate  for  any  when  I  joined. 

It  was  on  a  lovely  night  that  we  swung  clear  of 
Amoy  harbour  and,  catching  a  light  land-breeze, 
headed  across  the  strait  towards  Formosa.  Many 
fishing  sampans  were  dotted  about  the  sleeping  sea, 
making  little  sepia-splashes  on  the  wide  white  wake  of 
the  moon.  Little  care  was  taken  to  avoid  running 
them  down ;  nor  did  they  seem  to  feel  any  great 
anxiety  as  to  whether  we  did  so  or  not,  and  as  a  con- 
sequence we  occasionally  grazed  closely  past  one,  and 
looked  down  curiously  upon  the  passive  figures  sitting 
in  their  frail  craft  like  roosting  sea-birds  upon  a  float- 
ing log.     Without  any  actual  damage  to  them,  we 

58 


You  Sing 


gradually  drew  clear  of  their  cruising-ground,  and, 
hauling  to  the  southward  a  little,  stood  gently  onward 
for  Cape  South,  the  wind  still  very  light  and  the 
weather  perfect.  But  suddenly  we  ran  into  a  strange 
heavy  mist  that  obscured  all  the  sea  around  us,  and 
yet  did  not  have  that  wetness  that  usually  characterizes 
the  clinging  vapour  of  the  sea-fog.  Through  this 
opaque  veil  we  glided  as  if  sailing  in  cloudland,  a 
silence  enwrapping  us  as  if  we  had  been  mysteriously 
changed  into  a  ghostly  ship  and  crew.  Then  a  quick, 
strong  blast  of  wind  burst  out  of  the  brume  right 
ahead,  throwing  all  the  sails  aback  and  driving  the 
vessel  stern  foremost  at  a  rate  that  seemed  out  of  all 
proportion  to  its  force. 

For  a  few  moments  the  watch  on  deck  appeared  to 
be  stupid  with  surprise.  Then  the  skipper,  roused  by 
the  unusual  motion,  rushed  on  deck,  and  his  deep, 
guttural  voice  broke  the  spell  as  he  issued  abrupt 
orders.  All  hands  were  soon  busy  getting  the  vessel 
under  control,  shortening  sail,  and  trimming  yards. 
But,  to  everybody's  speechless  amazement,  it  was  pres- 
ently found  that  entangled  alongside  lay  a  small  junk, 
a  craft  of  some  twenty  to  thirty  tons,  upon  whose 
deck  no  sign  of  life  was  visible.  All  hands  crowded  to 
the  rail,  staring  and  muttering  almost  incoherent  com- 
ment upon  this  weird  visitor  that  had  so  suddenly 
arisen,  as  it  were,  out  of  the  void.  As  usual,  the  skip- 
per first  recovered  his  working  wits,  and  ordered  a 
couple  of  the  men  to  jump  on  board  the  junk  and 
investigate.  They  obeyed  unquestionably,  as  was 
their  wont,  and  presently  reported  that  she  was  un- 

59 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

manned,  but  apparently  full  to  the  hatches  of  assorted 
Chinese  cargo  in  mats  and  boxes.  The  skipper's  voice 
took  an  exultant  ring  as  he  ordered  the  vessel  to  be 
well  secured  alongside,  and  her  contents  to  be  trans- 
ferred on  board  of  us  with  all  possible  despatch. 
Meanwhile  the  strange  mist  had  vanished  as  suddenly 
as  it  had  arisen,  and  the  full  bright  moon  shone  down 
upon  the  toiling  men,  who  with  wonderful  celerity 
were  breaking  out  the  junk's  cargo  and  hurling  it  on 
to  our  decks.  Such  was  their  expedition  that  in  half 
an  hour  our  decks  were  almost  impassable  for  the 
queer-looking  boxes  and  bales  and  bundles  of  all 
shapes  disgorged  from  the  junk's  hold.  Then  they 
invaded  the  evil-scented  cabin,  and  ransacked  its  many 
hiding-places,  finding  numerous  neatly-bound  parcels 
wrapped  in  fine  silky  matting.  And,  last  of  all — they 
declared  he  must  have  suddenly  been  materialized,  or 
words  to  that  effect — they  lighted  upon  a  lad  of  proba- 
bly sixteen  years  of  age.  He  showed  no  surprise,  after 
the  fatalistic  fashion  of  his  countrymen,  but  stood 
gravely  before  them  like  some  quaint  Mongolian  idol 
carved  out  of  yellow  jade,  and  ready  for  any  fortune 
that  might  await  him.  With  scant  ceremony,  he  too 
was  man-handled  on  deck,  for  the  command  was 
urgent  to  finish  the  work ;  the  busy  labourers  followed 
him,  and  the  junk  was  cast  adrift. 

Some  sort  of  rough  stowage  was  made  of  the  treas- 
ure-trove thus  peculiarly  shipped ;  and,  the  excitement 
that  had  sustained  their  unusual  exertions  having  sub- 
sided, the  tired  crew  flung  themselves  down  anywhere 
and  slept — slept  like  dead  men,  all  except  the  officer  of 

60 


The  toiling  men  were  breaking  out  the  junk's  cargo. 


You  Sing 


the  watch  and  the  helmsman.  They  had  at  first  little 
to  do  that  might  keep  them  from  slumber,  for  tbe  wind 
had  dropped  to  a  stark  calm,  which  in  those  sheltered 
waters,  remote  from  the  disturbing  influence  of  any 
great  ocean  swell,  left  the  ship  almost  perfectly  mo- 
tionless, a  huge  silhouette  against  the  glowing  surface 
of  a  silver  lake.  But  presently  it  dawned  upon  the 
mate  who  was  in  charge  of  the  deck  that,  although  the 
vessel  had  certainly  not  travelled  more  than  a  mile 
since  the  junk  was  cast  adrift,  that  strange  craft  was 
nowhere  to  be  seen ;  and,  stem  ^martinet  though  he 
was,  the  consciousness  of  something  uncanny  about 
the  recent  business  stole  through  him,  shrinking  his 
skin  and  making  his  mouth  dr>',  until  for  relief  he 
sought  the  helmsman  and  entered  into  conversation 
with  him  on  the  subject.  That  worthy,  a  stolid,  un- 
emotional Dutchman  named  Pfeiflfer,  scanned  the 
whole  of  the  palpitating  brightness  around  before  he 
would  assent  to  the  mate's  theory  of  any  sudden  dis- 
appearance of  our  late  companion ;  but,  having  done 
so,  and  failed  to  discover  the  smallest  speck  against 
that  dazzling  surface,  he,  too,  was  fain  to  admit  that 
the  thing  was  not  comforting.  Right  glad  were  those 
two  men  when  the  interminably  long  watch  was  over, 
and  the  sharp,  business-like  notes  of  the  bell  seemed 
to  dissipate  in  some  measure  the  chilling  atmosphere 
of  mystery  that  hemmed  them  in.  To  the  second  mate 
the  retiring  officer  said  nothing  of  his  fears,  but  ha- 
stened below,  hurriedly  scratched  a  perfunctory  note 
or  two  on  the  log-slate,  and  bundled,  "  all  standing  " — 
that  is,  dressed  as  he  was — into  his  bunk,  pulling  the 

6i 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

upper  feather-bed  right  over  his  head,  as  if  to  shut  out 
the  terxor  that  was  upon  him.  Slowly  the  remainder 
of  the  night  passed  away;  but  when  at  last  the  tiny 
suggestion  of  paleness  along  the  eastern  horizon  gave 
the  first  indication  of  the  day's  approach,  no  change, 
not  even  the  slightest,  had  occurred  to  increase  the 
mystery  whose  environment  all  felt  more  or  less 
keenly.  As  the  advancing  glory  of  the  new  day  dis- 
placed the  deep  purple  of  the  night,  the  awakening 
crew  recalled,  as  if  it  had  been  a  lifetime  ago,  the 
strange  happening  of  the  past  few  hours.  But  it  was 
not  until  the  clear  light  was  fully  come  that  the  sig- 
nificance of  the  whole  afJair  was  manifest.  For  there, 
seated  upon  a  mat-bound  case,  stamped  all  over  with 
red  "  chops,"  was  the  Chinese  youth,  whose  existence 
had  up  till  now  been  unnoticed  from  the  time  he  was 
first  bundled  on  board.  Impassive  as  a  wooden  image, 
he  looked  as  if  the  position  he  had  held  throughout  the 
night  had  left  him  unwearied,  and,  to  all  appearance, 
the  strange  and  sudden  change  in  his  environment  pos- 
sessed for  him  no  significance  whatever.  But  now, 
when  the  surly-looking  mate  approached  him  and 
looked  him  over  with  evident  distaste,  he  slid  off  his 
perch,  and,  kneeling  at  the  officer's  feet,  kissed  the 
deck  thrice  in  manifest  token  of  his  entire  submis- 
sion to  whatever  fate  might  be  dealt  out  to  him. 
The  mate  stood  silently  looking  down  upon  him, 
as  if  hardly  able  to  decide  what  to  do  with  him. 
While  this  curious  little  episode  was  being  enacted 
the  skipper  appeared,  and,  hastening  to  the  mate's 
side,  addressed  the  grovelling  Celestial  in  what  he 

62 


You  Sing 

supposed  to  be  the  only  possible  medium  of  com- 
munication— "  pidgin  "  English,  which,  coupled  to  a 
German  accent,  was  the  queerest  jargon  conceivable. 

"  Veil,"  he  said,  "  vot  pelong  ju  pidgin — hay?  Ju 
savvy  vork,  vun  dime  ? " 

Lifting  his  yellow  mask  of  a  face,  but  still  remain- 
ing on  his  knees,  the  waif  made  answer — 

"  No  shabbee.    You  Sing." 


CHAPTER  II 

"  You  Sing  "  conveyed  no  meaning  to  anybody ; 
but,  after  various  extraordinary  attempts  to  extend  the 
conversation  had  entirely  failed,  it  was  tacitly  agreed 
that  You  Sing  must  be  his  name.  Whether  it  was  or 
not,  the  taciturn  pagan  answered  to  it  immediately  it 
was  uttered,  or  rather  he  came  instantly  to  whoever 
mentioned  it.  So,  seeing  that  it  was  hopeless  to  think 
of  getting  any  information  from  him  as  to  the  why 
and  wherefore  of  the  strange  circumstances  under 
which  we  had  found  him,  the  skipper  decided  promptly 
to  put  him  to  work  as  a  steward,  believing  that  he 
would  make  a  good  one.  To  that  end  he  was  handed 
over  to  me  for  tuition,  much  to  my  delight,  for  now  I 
felt  that  I  should  have  a  companion  who  was  certainly 
not  more  than  my  equal,  and  who  would  not  be  likely 
to  ill-treat  me  in  any  way,  as  most  of  the  crew  did 
when  opportunity  arose.  His  coming  was  to  me  a  per- 
fect godsend.  He  was  so  willing,  so  docile,  and  withal 
so  eminently  teachable,  that  it  was  a  pleasure  to  be 

63 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

with  him.  And  the  incongruity  of  being  placed  under 
such  an  urchin  as  myself  did  not  appear  to  strike  him 
at  all,  for  he  looked  upon  me  from  the  first  day  of 
our  acquaintance  as  the  one  creature  that  stood  be- 
tween him  and  the  outer  dark — although  it  must  be 
said  that,  as  far  as  could  be  judged  by  his  attitude  to 
all  with  whom  he  came  in  contact,  he  regarded  every 
member  of  the  ship's  company  as  in  some  sort  his 
saviour.  All  could  command  him,  and  he  would  in- 
stantly obey ;  and  although  he  understood  no  word  of 
what  was  said  to  him,  he  watched  so  keenly,  his  desire 
to  please  was  so  intense,  and  his  natural  ability  so  great, 
that  his  eflforts  to  do  what  was  required  of  him  were 
generally  successful.  Unfortunately,  his  willingness 
often  got  him  into  serious  trouble,  since  he  always 
obeyed  the  last  order,  not  being  able  to  discriminate 
between  those  who  had  the  first  claim  upon  him  and 
those  who  had  no  right  to'  his  services  whatever.  But 
when  he  was  beaten  for  neglecting  tasks  that  he  had 
been  called  away  from,  he  never  murmured  or  showed 
sign  of  pain  or  resentment;  all  treatment  was  borne 
with  the  same  placid  equanimity,  as  if  he  were  a  per- 
fectly passionless  automaton.  With  one  exception — 
■  myself.  When  with  me  his  usually  expressionless  eyes 
would  shine,  and  his  yellow  face  wear  a  peculiarly 
sweet  smile  that  had  quite  a  fascination  for  me.  I 
found  myself  growing  so  much  attached  to  him  that 
my  rage  against  his  persecutors  often  drove  me  nearly 
frantic — such  wrath  as  it  had  never  occurred  to  me 
to  feel  on  my  own  behalf. 

Meanwhile  the  Blitzen,  sorely  hampered  hy  calms 

64 


You  Sing 


and  variable  winds,  crept  slowly  and  painfully  towards 
her  destination.  I  was  so  much  absorbed  with  the 
education  and  company  of  You  Sing  that  I  lost  all  my 
usual  interest  in  the  progress  of  the  vessel,  and  did 
not  even  wonder  when  we  were  going  to  reach  our 
next  port — a  speculation  that  had  hitherto  always  had 
great  charms  for  me.  But  one  morning  before  break- 
fast I  was  dreadfully  affrighted  to  hear  a  fierce  alter- 
cation on  deck.  It  had  always  been  my  ill-fortune 
hitherto  to  find  myself  the  ultimate  vicarious  sacrifice 
in  all  cases  of  trouble,  and  even  to  this  day  the  old 
feeling  of  dread  still  exists — a  feeling  that  whatever 
row  is  going  on  I  shall  presently  be  made  to  suffer  for 
it ;  and  the  well-remembered  sensation  of  sinking  at 
the  pit  of  the  stomach  comes  back,  making  me  for  the 
moment  quite  ill.  So,  trembling  all  over,  I  peered 
out  of  the  pantry  window  on  to  the  main  deck,  and 
saw  the  mate  confronting  three  men  of  his  watch,  who, 
with  inflamed  faces  and  fierce  gestures,  were  evidently 
threatening  his  life.  Now,  there  had  never  before 
been  the  slightest  sign  of  insubordination  on  board, 
the  discipline  seeming  as  near  perfection  as  possible, 
and  therefore  this  sudden  outbreak  was  most  alarm- 
ing. A  swift  step  passed  the  pantry  door,  and  instantly 
I  saw  the  skipper  rushing  forward.  Without  a  word 
he  plunged  into  the  midst  of  the  angry  four,  and  seiz- 
ing the  foremost  seaman  by  the  throat  and  waist 
hurled  him  crashing  against  the  bulwarks.  At  the 
same  moment  the  mate  sprang  at  another  man,  as  if  to 
serve  him  in  the  same  manner ;  but,  missing  his  grasp, 
he  stumbled  and  fell  on  his  knees.     A  stifled  scream 

65 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

burst  from  my  dry  lips  as  I  saw  the  glint  of  steel ;  the 
seaman  attacked  had  drawn  his  knife,  and  as  the  mate 
fell  the  weapon  descended  with  fearful  force  between 
his  shoulders.  I  heard  the  ugly  sound  right  aft,  and 
it  remains  with  me  to-day.  The  skipper,  however,  with 
the  agility  of  a  porpoise,  instantly  flung  himself  on  the 
two  men,  and  fought  as  if  he  had  the  sinews  of  ten. 

Compared  with  the  noise  of  the  preliminary  quar- 
rel, this  life-and-death  struggle  was  silence  itself ;  but  I 
could  hear  the  laboured  breathings  of  the  combatants 
coming  in  hoarse  gasps,  and  the  cracking  of  the  joints 
as  the  writhing  bodies  knotted  and  strained.  There 
was  a  scream  behind  me,  a  rustle  of  skirts,  and  out  of 
the  cabin  rushed  the  skipper's  wife,  with  flying  hair 
and  outstretched  arms.  But  before  she  was  halfway 
to  the  spot  there  was  a  swoop  as  of  some  huge  bird 
past  her,  and  the  second  mate,  the  youngest  officer  in 
the  ship  and  the  biggest  man,  alighted  in  the  fray  like 
a  hungry  tiger.  I  did  not  see  the  other  watch  of  the 
crew  arrive,  but  they  were  there,  and  fighting  as  fierce- 
ly as  the  rest. 

Now,  the  first  flush  of  fear  having  gone  from  me, 
I  became  interested — somewhat  coldly  critical,  indeed, 
of  the  various  points  of  the  battle,  finding  myself,  to 
the  wonder  of  some  other  corner  of  my  brain,  siding 
with  the  officers,  and  hoping  they  would  be  victorious. 
The  surprise  of  this  backwater  of  thought  was  proba- 
bly owing  to  the  fact  that  all  the  officers  had  treated 
me  with  steady  brutality,  while  the  men,  though  not 
kind,  seldom  touched  me,  although  that  was  probably 
only  lack  of  opportunity.    But  with  all  my  keen  watch- 

66 


You  Sing 


ing  I  could  not  yet  forecast  the  upshot  of  this  awful 
encounter.  The  mass  of  bodies  seemed  to  me  inex- 
tricably entangled,  heaving  and  writhing  like  a  basket 
of  wounded  eels;  while  all  around  them,  frantically 
clutching  at  the  labouring  body  of  her  husband,  and 
shrieking  pitifully,  hovered  the  unhappy  wife  and 
mother. 

Suddenly  it  dawned  upon  me  that  the  little  Elsie 
was  alone,  and  probably  frightened  to  death;  and, 
though  I  was  never  a  favourite  with  even  her,  it 
seemed  good  to  go  and  comfort  her  if  possible.  So  I 
turned  away  from  the  window,  and  there  behind  me 
was  You  Sing,  calmly  cleaning  the  knives,  as  unmoved 
by  any  external  occurrence  as  a  piece  of  machinery. 
As  I  unblocked  the  window  he  caught  my  eye,  and 
the  peculiarly  winsome  smile  he  always  wore  for  me 
lit  up  his  solemn  face.  His  lips  opened,  and  he  mur- 
mured softly  with  an  indescribable  accent  the  only  two 
English  words  I  had  succeeded  in  teaching  him, 
"  'Ullo,  Tommy."  I  could  only  smile  back  in  return 
as  I  hurried  off  to  the  skipper's  state-room  aft,  feeling 
as  if,  with  the  shutting  out  of  that  savage  sight,  a  load 
had  been  lifted  off  my  brain.  A  quick  revulsion  of 
sympathy  thrilled  me  as  I  found  the  pretty  child  fast 
asleep  in  placid  unconsciousness  of  the  terrible  scene 
in  progress  outside.  I  stood  for  a  minute  looking  at 
her  with  a  tenderness  I  had  never  before  felt  towards 
her,  all  her  childish  dislike  and  funny  little  ways  of 
showing  it,  borrowed  from  her  parents,  utterly  for- 
gotten. Then,  softly  closing  the  door,  I  hurried  back 
to  the  pantry,  finding  You  Sing  still  busily  employed. 

67 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

Scrambling  to  the  window,  I  peered  forrard  again, 
seeing,  to  my  horror,  only  a  heap  of  bodies  lying  still. 
I  stood  there  as  if  frozen,  trying  hard  to  think,  en- 
deavouring to  realize  the  position,  but  unable  to  con- 
trol my  disorganized  brain.  How  long  I  stood  staring 
thus  I  have  no  idea;  but  I  was  recalled  to  usefulness 
again  by  You  Sing's  gentle  touch  upon  my  back. 
Turning  slowly  round,  I  faced  him,  while  he  pointed 
out  his  finished  work  and  intimated  to  me  in  the  sign 
language  we  always  employed  that  he  awaited  instruc- 
tions what  to  go  on  with.  Impatiently  I  made  a 
great  efTort  to  show  him  that  all  ordinary  work  was 
now  at  an  end,  and,  pulling  him  to  the  window, 
pointed  out  the  awful  heap  on  the  main  hatch.  He 
looked,  and  I  believe  understood  the  situation,  for  he 
turned  again  to  me  and  patted  my  face,  pointed  first 
to  me  and  then  to  himself,  as  if  to  intimate  that  upon 
us  two,  me  as  master  and  he  as  servant,  the  conduct 
of  affairs  now  rested. 

Then,  taking  my  courage  in  both  hands,  I  softly 
stepped  out  on  deck  and  approached  the  scene  of 
conflict,  though  trembling  so  violently  that  I  could 
scarcely  go.  But  when  I  reached  the  entwined  heap 
of  bodies  I  did  not  know  what  to  do,  standing  help- 
lessly staring  at  the  grim  spectacle.  A  faint  groan 
startled  me,  and  I  bent  down  over  the  nearest  body, 
which  happened  to  be  the  skipper's,  hearing  him  mur- 
mur faintly,  "  Wasser,  lieber  Gott!  Wasser."  Hastily 
motioning  to  You  Sing  to  fetch  some  water,  I  tried  to 
drag  the  skipper  into  a  sitting  position ;  but  it  was  too 
much  for  my  strength.    The  effort,  how^ever,  was  ap- 

68 


You  Sing 


parently  all  that  was  needed  to  shake  the  last  faint 
breath  from  his  body,  for,  with  wide  dilated  nostrils 
and  open  mouth,  he  gave  his  final  gasp.  Then  all  was 
still,  for  all  were  dead. 

The  whole  waist  was  like  the  veriest  shambles,  and 
the  fearful  savagery  of  the  fight  was  manifest  in  many 
hideous  details  that  need  not  be  reproduced.  Sud- 
denly a  hope  dawned  upon  me  that  one  man  might  still 
be  left — the  helmsman  ;  and,  rushing  aft,  I  bounded  up 
on  to  the  poop,  only  to  find  the  wheel  swinging  idly  to 
and  fro :  there  was  no  one  there.  Then  I  ran  for- 
ward, unheeding  You  Sing's  dog-like  wistful  look  after 
me,  and  ransacked  the  forecastle  and  galley ;  but  both 
were  deserted.    We  were  quite  alone. 

This  tremendous  fact  broke  in  upon  me  with  good 
effect  after  the  strain  to  which  I  had  recently  been  sub- 
jected, for  it  braced  me  up  to  action.  Calling  upon 
You  Sing  to  help  me,  I  tackled  the  ghastly  heap,  tug- 
ging and  straining  at  the  limp  bodies,  and  getting  all 
gory  as  they  were.  The  sweat  ran  down  blindingly;  I 
felt  my  sinews  crack  with  my  desperate  exertions ;  but 
at  last  all  the  bodies  were  separated  and  laid  side  by 
side,  the  captain's  wife  last  of  that  sad  row.  Not  a 
sign  of  life  was  to  be  found  in  any  one  of  them ;  and, 
having  at  last  satisfied  myself  of  this,  I  dropped  upon 
the  crimsoned  tarpaulin  exhausted,  to  rack  my  brains 
for  some  reason  why  this  sudden  tragedy  should  have 
been  enacted.  Gradually  the  conviction  forced  itself 
upon  me  that  the  whole  horrible  outbreak  was  due  to 
some  quarrel  over  the  junk's  cargo;  but  as  that  had 
all  been  overhauled  and  stowed  away  without  my 
6  69 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

knowing  anything  of  its  nature,  it  was  only  a  blind 
guess.  Something,  however,  of  tremendous  impor- 
tance must  have  occurred  to  make  a  body  of  men  fight 
with  such  fury  among  themselves  that  not  one  of  them 
remained  alive. 

But  urgent  necessity  was  laid  upon  me  to  be  up 
and  doing,  the  first  duty  that  demanded  attention 
being  the  disposal  of  the  dead.  So  I  called  upon  You 
Sing — who,  standing  near,  never  seemed  to  take  his 
eyes  off  me — and  the  pair  of  us  triced  up  one  of  the 
bulwark  ports  and  dragged  the  first  of  the  corpses  up 
to  it.  Then  by  a  sudden  impulse  I  flung  oflf  my  cap, 
and,  kneeling  down  on  the  red  deck,  said  the  Lord's 
Prayer  and  the  final  Collect  in  the  Church  Service — 
all  I  could  then  remember;  while  my  heathen  helper 
stood  gravely  by  making  no  sign  but  looking  a  very 
well-spring  of  sympathy.  Strangely  cheered  and  up- 
lifted, I  seized  the  poor  piece  of  clay,  and  motioning 
my  helpmate,  launched  it  through  the  yawning  port, 
listening  shudderingly  to  the  dull  splash  that  followed. 
And  so  with  the  rest,  until  we  two  stood  alone,  pant- 
ing and  distressed  with  our  heavy  task,  A  few  min- 
utes' rest,  and  then,  with  draw-bucket  and  broom,  we 
laboured  to  cleanse  away  the  blood  that  besmeared  so 
wide  a  space  of  the  decks.  At  this  work  we  toiled  for 
a  long  time,  and  when  at  last  we  gave  over,  because 
I  was  tired  out,  we  had  only  partially  succeeded  in 
removing  the  fearful  evidence  of  that  great  fight.  By 
this  time  I  was  so  far  myself  as  to  feel  hungry.  The 
feeling  of  nausea,  that  had  been  coming  and  going 
like  waves  over  me  ever  since  I  first  left  the  cabin,  had 

70 


You  Sing 


left  me,  and  I  ordered  You  Sing  to  get  breakfast. 
He  set  about  the  job  immediately,  leaving  me  seated 
on  the  damp  hatch  wondering  what  would  become  of 
us.  Then  suddenly  it  occurred  to  me  for  the  first  time 
that  the  ship  was  entirely  left  to  herself.  There  was 
a  faint  breeze  blowing  steadily,  all  sail  being  set,  and 
the  yards  canted  a  couple  of  points,  for  what  wind 
existed  was  on  the  quarter.  I  rose  and  went  aft  to  the 
wheel,  finding  that  she  came  up  and  fell  off  about 
three  points,  so  that  she  was  practically  steering  her- 
self, and  making  a  fairly  average  course  S.S.E.  This 
was  satisfactory  so  far,  because  it  relieved  me  of  any 
necessity  for  immediate  action.  I  knew  how  to  steer, 
and,  as  far  as  my  strength  went,  could  handle  sails, 
besides  understanding  fairly  well  how  a  ship  was 
worked ;  for  I  had  been  over  two  years  at  sea,  and 
always  a  deck-boy  until  this  voyage,  so  that,  unless  I 
had  been  a  very  idiot,  I  must  know  something  about 
sailoring. 

Everything  being  so  quiet  and  favourable,  I  re- 
membered little  Elsie,  and  with  a  sinking  heart  went 
down  below  to  break  the  dreadful  news  to  her.  How 
it  was  to  be  done  I  didn't  know,  my  stock  of  German 
being  pitifully  scanty,  and  she,  poor  child !  not  know- 
ing one  word  of  English.  As  I  turned  the  handle  of 
the  state-room  door  I  heard  her  calling,  "  Mutter,  wie 
hist  duf"  and  in  spite  of  my  efforts  some  big  tears 
burst  from  my  eyes.  But  I  went  in  and  stood  by  her 
cot,  racking  my  brains  for  some  way  of  making  her 
understand  what  had  happened.  As  soon  as  she  saw 
me  she  begfan,  as  usual,  to  scold  me  for  being  there 

71 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

— where,  indeed,  I  was  never  allowed  to  enter — and 
ordered  me  with  much  dignity  to  go  and  call  her 
mother. 

It  would  be  useless  for  me  to  attempt  any  descrip- 
tion of  the  scene  that  followed.  I  could  not,  do  what 
I  would,  make  her  understand  what  an  awful  change 
had  taken  place  since  she  went  to  sleep.  She  at  last 
made  up  her  mind  that  I  must  be  crazy,  and,  thor- 
oughly frightened,  sprang  out  of  her  cot,  and  rushed 
into  the  cabin  screaming  frantically  for  "  Mutter, 
Mutter!  Vater,  Vater!  "  I  followed  her  carefully,  puz- 
zled beyond  measure  to  know  what  to  do ;  but  she  fled 
on  deck,  up  the  ladder  and  on  to  the  poop,  still  call- 
ing with  all  her  voice  for  those  who  were  for  ever  deaf 
to  her  cries. 

Of  course,  I  dared  not  pursue  her,  for  fear  of  add- 
ing to  her  terror ;  so  I  waited  anxiously  until  she  had 
explored  every  vacant  corner  of  the  ship,  and  at  last, 
exhausted  with  her  efiforts,  she  returned  slowly  to  the 
cabin.  Then  I  quietly  brought  her  some  food,  and 
begged  her  to  eat  a  little;  but,  as  I  might  have  ex- 
pected, that  was  impossible.  However,  she  was  so  far 
quieted  that  she  plied  me  with  questions,  which  I 
answered  as  well  as  I  was  able,  until  I  succeeded  in 
making  her  understand  the  grim  truth.  She  burst 
into  such  a  passion  of  weeping  when  she  compre- 
hended the  case  that  at  first  I  feared  for  her  life ;  but 
presently  I  saw  that  this  outbreak  was  the  best  thing 
that  could  have  happened,  for  it  relieved  her  poor  little 
brain ;  and  soon,  utterly  worn  out,  she  went  off  into  a 
heavy  sleep. 

72 


You  Sing 


Then  I  searched  the  cabin  thoroughly,  with  the  dim 
idea  in  my  mind  of  finding  some  cause  for  the  mutiny 
in  accordance  with  my  suspicions.  Sure  enough,  I 
had  been  right,  for  in  various  hiding-places  I  came 
upon  such  treasures  as  I  had  never  even  dreamed  of 
before — coined  gold  in  boxes,  in  bags,  in  bundles: 
sovereigns,  eagles,  onzas,  and  napoleons ;  jewellery  of 
every  variety  of  make,  glittering  with  precious  stones 
of  which  I  had  never  heard  the  name.  At  last  I  came 
upon  a  crucifix  nearly  two  feet  in  length,  apparently 
of  solid  gold,  and  encrusted  with  large  gems,  a  marvel 
of  costliness  and  beauty.  I  showed  it  to  You  Sing, 
who,  for  the  first  time  in  my  acquaintance  with  him, 
showed  signs  of  horror,  and  tried  hard  to  induce  me  to 
throw  the  magnificent  thing  overboard. 


CHAPTER  III 

This  discovery  marked  a  new  departure  in  our 
relations  towards  each  other.  Hitherto  I  had  looked 
upon  You  Sing  as  I  might  have  done  upon  a  big  faith- 
ful dog,  but  never  dreamed  of  crediting  him  with  any 
intelligent  initiative.  His  behaviour  so  far  had  cer- 
tainly justified  me  in  this  opinion ;  but  now  he  be- 
came completely  transformed.  In  the  most  energetic 
pantomime,  and  with  strangely  severe  struggles  to 
enunciate  a  few  words  of  my  language,  he  endeavoured 
to  explain  to  me  the  origin  of  all  these  treasures.  I 
did  not  find  it  hard  to  understand  the  general  drift 
of  his  attempt  to  enlighten  me,  because  I  had  already 

73 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

suspected  something  of  what  I  was  now  gathering 
from  him.  Roughly,  it  was  to  the  effect  that  the  cargo 
we  had  reheved  the  junk  of  was  the  accumulated  hoard 
of  a  nest  of  pirates  who  had  long  been  preying  upon 
such  seafarers  as  they  dared  attack  without  fear  of  re- 
prisals, and  who  were  all  deliberately  slain  after  they 
had  been  plundered  and  their  vessels  scuttled.  Then 
the  wretches  had  turned  their  bloody  hands  against 
each  other,  and  by  so  doing  somewhat  atoned  for 
their  innumerable  crimes  by  ridding  the  world  of  two- 
thirds  of  the  gang.  The  survivors  then  loaded  up  all 
the  most  valuable  of  the  stored  plunder  into  the 
most  seaworthy  junk  they  possessed,  and,  divesting 
her  of  all  suspicious  appearance,  sailed  for  some  port 
where  they  intended  to  dispose  of  their  loot.  Again 
Nemesis  overtook  them ;  they  had  befouled  the  seas 
too  long.  They  stealthily  murdered  one  another  as 
opportunity  served,  until  there  were  hardly  enough 
of  them  left  to  handle  the  junk.  You  Sing  was  a 
slave  who  had  done  their  cooking,  having  been  spared 
for  that  purpose  alone  out  of  the  entire  crew  of  a 
large  barque  they  had  surprised  one  night.  Doubtless 
his  turn  to  perish  had  nearly  arrived,  when,  going 
down  into  their  store-room  under  the  cabin  for  some 
rice,  he  found  himself  in  a  sort  of  trap  from  which 
he  was  unable  to  escape.  There  he  would  certainly 
have  perished  of  starvation,  instead  of  sharing  the 
unknown  fate  of  the  remnant  of  his  tyrants,  but  for 
our  intervention.  And  in  various  quaint  ways  he 
gave  me  to  understand  that  he  considered  his  life 
to  belong  to  this  ship  and  her  crew,  of  whom  the 

74 


You  Sing 


child  asleep  and  my  small  self  were  now  the  sole  rep- 
resentatives. 

I  could  not  bring  myself  to  the  point  of  heaving 
all  those  pretty  things  overboard;  but  seeing  what  a 
dread  he  had  of  them,  I  stowed  them  all  in  the  late 
skipper's  berth  under  his  bed-place,  in  two  large 
drawers,  which  I  locked,  and  hung  the  key  round  my 
neck.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  I  began  to  think  about 
working  the  ship.  Unfortunately,  I  had  not  the  faint- 
est idea  of  which  was  the  best  direction  to  steer  in, 
for  I  did  not  know,  within  at  least  a  thousand  miles, 
our  position.  I  imagined,  of  course,  that  we  were 
somewhere  south  of  Formosa,  and  between  that  great 
island  and  the  Philippines ;  but  that  was  vague  in  the 
extreme.  And  I  was  in  hourly  terror  of  being  sighted 
by  a  wandering  junk  of  whatever  character,  feeling 
certain  of  a  barbarous  death  at  the  hands  of  any  of 
You  Sing's  countrymen  who  might  happen  to  find 
such  a  prize  as  the  Blitzen.  How  I  longed  for  the 
sight  of  a  smoke-wreath  festooning  the  horizon !  That 
vision  would  have  nearly  sent  me  crazy  with  joy.  But 
I  suppose  we  were  far  out  of  the  track  of  steamers,  for 
we  saw  no  sign  of  one. 

Aided  most  manfully  and  sensibly  by  You  Sing,  I 
clewed  up  the  royals  and  topgallant  sails  with  a  view 
of  making  the  vessel  easier  to  handle,  and  with  a  great 
deal  of  labour  managed  to  haul  up  the  courses  (main- 
sail and  foresail)  as  well,  taking  the  gear  to  the  capstan 
where  it  was  too  heavy  for  our  united  eflForts,  until 
those  great  squares  of  canvas  hung  snug  as  they  could 
be  without  being  actually  furled.     Then,  after  long 

75 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

cogitation,  I  decided  to  make  for  the  coast  ot  China, 
which  I  knew  must  be  west  of  us,  and  trust  to  a 
merciful  God  to  bring  us  in  sight  of  either  some 
civiUzed  port  or  ship  before  any  of  those  calm,  merci- 
less pagans  came  across  us.  Now  we  each  took  a 
regular  trick  at  the  wheel  (You  Sing  learned  to  do  so 
in  less  than  half  an  hour) ;  and  little  Elsie,  all  her  high 
spirits  gone,  and  docile  as  You  Sing  himself,  even 
took  a  spell  at  steering  when  we  would  let  her. 
Heaven  alone  knows  what  our  track  would  have 
looked  like  on  the  chart,  but  it's  my  belief  that  we 
were  getting  to  the  westward  at  the  rate  of  about 
twenty  miles  a  day  for  the  best  part  of  a  week  (I  lost 
all  count  of  time)  ;  and,  though  it  seems  hard  to  believe, 
I  was  actually  beginning  to  feel  quite  important  as 
the  commander  of  a  big  vessel  on  the  high  seas.  We 
fed  well  and  we  slept  well — at  least  Elsie  and  I  did ;  as 
for  You  Sing,  I  don't  know  whether  he  ever  slept  at 
all.  He  did  all  the  cooking,  kept  every^thing  clean 
and  tidy,  and  was  ever  ready  when  called  upon.  Be- 
sides all  this,  he  had  won  his  way  into  the  aflfections 
of  Elsie ;  and  I  almost  felt  a  pang  of  jealousy  when  I 
heard  her  clear  laugh  at  some  of  the  quaint  antics  he 
cut  in  order  to  amuse  her.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  one 
haunting  dread  of  being  overhauled  by  a  junk,  I  be- 
lieve we  should  have  been  quite  happy ;  for  the  terror 
of  the  past  tragedy  had  faded  from  our  minds,  and  the 
sea  was  kind  and  gentle,  the  soft  breeze  blew  sweetly, 
though  it  varied  a  great  deal,  making  our  task  of  trim- 
ming the  yards  in  order  to  keep  the  vessel  somewhere 
near  her  course — due  west — an  uncommonly  heavy  one. 

76 


You  Sing 


Then  it  fell  a  flat  calm.  Now,  I  had,  even  at  that 
early  age,  all  a  sailor's  horror  of  a  calm,  and  this  one 
troubled  me  more  than  any  I  had  yet  experienced. 
The  silence  was  almost  unbearable.  I  could  not  rest 
day  or  night — it  lasted  three  days — for  more  than  an 
hour  or  so  at  a  time;  and  when  I  fell  asleep  from  sheer 
weariness,  I  always  woke  with  my  heart  thumping 
furiously  and  in  an  icy  sweat  of  fear.  The  inaction 
got  upon  my  nerves,  so  that  I  began  to  hear  strange 
noises,  and  to  imagine  that  the  dead  crew  were  among 
us,  grieving  because  we  were  yet  alive,  and  scheming 
to  secure  our  company.  This  state  of  mind  grew  upon 
me  to  such  an  extent  that  at  last  I  dared  not  leave 
You  Sing,  clinging  to  him  as  the  one  hope  I  had  of 
ever  again  seeing  the  land  of  the  living.  He — gjave, 
careful,  and  kind  as  ever — accepted  this  entire  change 
in  our  relative  positions  with  the  same  serene  behaviour 
as  before  ;  and  in  my  worst  mental  trouble  I  had  only  to 
look  into  his  eyes  to  be  completely  comforted.  Elsie, 
strange  to  say,  seemed  quite  happy.  She  was  care- 
lessly kind  to  me ;  but  she  loved  our  Chinese  friend. 
A  word  or  two  from  him,  in  an  unintelligible  jargon, 
would  set  her  dancing  with  delight,  and  it  was  only 
during  his  unavoidable  absence  from  her  for  a  short 
time  that  she  ever  seemed  to  feel  the  misery  of  our 
position. 

On  the  tenth  evening  (I  think)  of  our  loneliness, 
and  the  third  of  the  calm,  I  was  lolling  against  the 
useless  wheel  watching,  with  eyes  that  observed 
naught,  the  fantastic  efforts  of  You  Sing  to  amuse 
Elsie,  when  an  appalling  feeling  of  dread  suddenly 

17 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

came  over  me.  It  was  as  if  I  was  going  to  be  violently 
sea-sick,  and  affected  my  limbs  to  such  an  extent  that 
I  slid  down  from  the  wheel  to  the  deck.  This  disabling 
sensation  was  happily  only  momentary  in  its  effect,  so 
that  I  was  able  to  rise  to  my  feet  again  almost  imme- 
diately, though  trembling  violently.  Whatever  mys- 
terious cause  had  thus  affected  me  I  could  not  tell,  and 
it  was  evidently  peculiar  to  myself,  for  my  two  ship- 
mates were  still  merry  at  their  play.  But  I  was  desper- 
ately uneasy,  fearing  that  I  was  going  to  be  very  ill. 
I  left  the  deck,  and  descended  into  the  cabin,  seeing, 
to  my  astonishment,  several  rats  prowling  uneasily 
about.  They  took  scarcely  any  notice  of  me,  and  I 
was  too  upset  to  obey  the  momentary  impulse  to  chase 
them.  I  sank  down  on  a  settee  and  tried  to  collect 
myself,  but  I  was  too  uneasy  to  sit  still,  and  soon  wan- 
dered out  on  the  main-deck  again. 

Aimlessly  I  slouched  forrard  and  climbed  up  on  the 
forecastle  head.  As  soon  as  I  reached  it,  on  looking 
ahead,  I  saw  a  sight  that  thickened  my  blood.  Right 
before  the  vessel  rose  a  dense  mass  of  inky  cloud,  ex- 
tending over  an  arc  of  the  horizon  of  about  one-sixth 
of  its  circumference.  It  was  dome-shaped,  and  upon 
its  apex  rested  the  descending  sun,  his  glowing  disc 
changed  into  a  dull  bronze-green  ball  that  shed  no 
light  around.  It  looked  as  if  the  glorious  orb  was 
sick  unto  death.  As  I  watched  with  growing  anxiety, 
the  painfully  changed  luminary  sank  slowly  into  that 
black  mountain  of  gloom  and  disappeared.  But  above 
itthe  clear  sky  reflected  its  ghastliness,  not  by  reason 
of  its  rays  ascending,  for  it  appeared  to  have  none,  but 

78 


You  Sing 


as  if  some  unknown  light  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth 
had  broken  through  the  sea,  and  was  thus  disfiguring 
the  beautiful  face  of  the  heavens. 

Tearing  myself  away  from  the  disabling  fascination 
of  the  sight,  I  returned  to  the  poop,  noticing  with 
much  satisfaction  that  my  trembling  had  almost 
ceased.  I  found  You  Sing  and  Elsie  sitting  on  a 
hen-coop,  watching  with  solemn  faces  the  rising  gloom 
ahead  in  perfect  silence,  all  their  pleasant  play  at  an  end. 
Meeting  You  Sing's  eye,  I  read  therein  a  reflection  of 
my  own  concern,  and  in  an  instant  we  understood  each 
other.  Doubtless,  it  being  his  native  country,  he  un- 
derstood the  ominous  signs  far  better  than  I,  although 
even  the  child  could  see  and  feel  that  something  ter- 
rible was  impending ;  and  as  I  went  up  to  her  to  coax 
her  below  he  murmured  in  my  ear  two  words  of  pure 
Chinese,  which,  because  they  have  passed  into  the 
English  language,  I  understood  at  once :  "  Ty  foong! " 
They  rang  through  my  brain  like  a  sentence  of  death ; 
but  I  actually  felt  some  relief  at  knowing  the  worst. 
For  if  we  were  about  to  encounter  a  typhoon  in  our 
utter  helplessness  either  to  prepare  for  it  by  furling 
sail,  or  to  handle  the  vessel  in  any  way,  what  hope 
could  there  be  of  our  survival  ?  But  there  is  a  certain 
satisfaction  in  knowing  that,  whatever  happens,  it  is 
no  fault  of  yours ;  that  you  can  do  nothing  of  any  serv- 
ice, but  just  endure  and  hope.  And  that  was  exactly 
our  position. 

We  got  Elsie  down  below  without  alarming  her, 
laid  in  a  stock  of  fresh  water  in  the  cabin,  and  barri- 
caded the  doors  opening  on  to  the  main-deck.    Then 

79 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

we  got  some  old  sails  up  from  the  locker  and  covered 
the  cabin  skylight,  lashing  it  down  as  securely  as  we 
knew  how.  The  cabin  being  as  secure  as  we  could 
make  it,  we  braced  the  yards  sharp  up  on  the  starboard 
tack  (although  I  don't  know  why  I  chose  that  side,  I'm 
sure),  for  I  had  a  dim  idea  that  we  should  stand  a  better 
chance  so  than  with  the  yards  square  as  they  were, 
since  I  knew  very  well  that  in  heavy  gales  of  wind 
a  vessel  ought  to  be  hove  to,  and  that  that  was  always 
effected  by  bracing  the  yards  forrard.  Then  I  let 
go  the  topsail-sheets  and  lowered  the  upper  topsails 
down  on  the  cap.  We  also  hauled  all  the  jibs  and  stay- 
sails down,  making  them  as  snug  as  we  could.  Last 
of  all,  I  put  the  helm  hard  down,  and  lashed  it  there. 
My  hope  was  that  in  the  first  burst  of  the  tempest  the 
big  sails  that  were  loose  would  blow  away,  and  that 
the  vessel  would  then  heave  herself  to  naturally,  al- 
though I  knew  well  enough  that  if  caught  by  the  lee 
she  would  probably  capsize  or  drive  under  stern  fore- 
most. 

While  we  had  been  thus  busy  the  rising  pall  of 
clouds  had  imperceptibly  grown  until  exactly  half  of 
the  concave  above  was  perfectly  black — black  as  the 
adit  of  a  coal-mine.  The  other  half  astern  was  of  an 
ugly  green  tint,  as  unlike  the  deep  violet  of  the  night 
sky  in  those  latitudes  as  could  well  be  imagined.  Its 
chief  peculiarity,  though,  was  its  light.  That  segment 
of  the  sky  was  full  of  glare,  diffused  light  that  was 
even  reflected  on  to  the  vessel,  and  yet  could  not  be 
traced  to  any  definite  source.  The  contrast  between 
this  uncanny  radiance  and  the  crepe-like  darkness  of 

80 


You  Sing 


the  other  half  of  the  sky  was  tremendous,  and  of  itself 
enough  to  inspire  fear  in  the  breast  of  any  creature 
living. 

Presently,  as  we  watched  in  strained  silence,  came 
the  beginning  of  what  we  were  to  know;  a  twining 
golden  webwork  of  electric  fires  all  over  the  swart 
roof  of  cloud,  or  whatever  that  gloom  was  built  of, 
and  in  a  hot  puff  of  wind  the  destroying  genie  of  the 
tropics  uplifted  the  opening  strains  of  his  song.  All 
cries  of  uttermost  woe  were  blended  in  it  as  it  faintly 
fell  upon  our  ears,  indistinctly,  as  if  echoed  and  re- 
echoed from  immeasurable  distances,  but  growing 
louder  and  wilder  with  every  burning  breath.  Then, 
in  one  furious  blast,  accompanied  by  a  cracking  blaze 
of  lightning,  the  typhoon  burst  upon  us.  It  was  just 
sufficiently  on  the  starboard  bow  to  avoid  catching  us 
aback,  and  the  vessel  paid  off,  heeling  over  to  its  force 
until  her  lee  rail  was  awash,  and  the  gleaming  foam 
toppled  inboard  in  a  smother  of  pale  light.  Lower  and 
lower  the  sky  descended,  until  it  seemed  as  if  we  might 
have  reached  upward  and  touched  it;  and,  unable  to 
bear  the  sight  any  longer,  I  fled  below,  followed  by 
You  Sing,  and  securely  fastened  the  scuttle  behind  us. 

Elsie  was  asleep  when  I  peeped  into  her  room,  for 
which  I  felt  profoundly  thankful ;  since  how  could  we 
have  comforted  her?  I  sat  down  by  You  Sing's  side 
and  looked  up  wonderingly  into  his  impassive  face 
which,  as  usual,  was  lighted  by  a  tender  smile  as  he 
met  my  troubled  gaze.  He  took  hold  of  my  hand 
and  patted  it,  murmuring  his  shibboleth,  "  'Ullo,  Tom- 
my ;  "  and,  in  spite  of  my  terrors,  I  smiled.    Outside, 

8i 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

the  uproar  was  beyond  description ;  but  except  that 
we  lay  over  at  a  most  dangerous  angle  we  were  fairly 
steady.  The  force  of  the  wind  did  not  permit  the  sea 
to  rise,  and  so  between  sleeping  and  waking  that  awful 
night  passed. 

CHAPTER  IV 

Having  no  means  of  knowing  the  time — for  the 
clock  had  never  been  wound,  owing  to  my  not  being 
able  to  find  the  key — I  cannot  tell  when  the  change 
came ;  but  I  think  it  must  have  been  about  eight  next 
morning.  The  vessel  suddenly  righted,  and  then  be- 
gan to  tumble  about  in  so  outrageous  a  fashion  that  I 
thought  she  must  go  all  to  pieces.  Elsie  awoke 
screaming  with  fright ;  and  with  all  You  Sing's  cat- 
like capacity  for  holding  on,  it  was  some  minutes  be- 
fore he  could  get  to  her  to  comfort  her.  He  had  not 
left  my  side  more  than  ten  minutes,  when,  with  a 
tremendous  lurch,  the  vessel  was  hurled  over  to  star- 
board, and  I  knew  that  my  greatest  fear  was  realized — 
she  had  been  caught  aback !  Over,  over  she  went, 
until  it  was  almost  possible  to  stand  upright  upon  the 
lee  bulk-heads  of  the  cabin.  In  sea-phrase,  she  was 
on  her  beam-ends. 

I  now  gave  all  up  for  lost,  and  waited,  hardly 
breathing,  for  the  crash  of  the  end.  The  water  on 
deck  burst  in  through  every  crevice,  and  rose  upon 
the  lee-side  until  I  was  obliged  to  climb  up  to  the  fast- 
clamped  settees  to  windward  to  avoid  being  drowned. 
The  uproar  on  deck  was  louder  than  ever,  and  I  fan- 

82 


You  Sing 


cied  that  I  could  hear  every  now  and  then  through 
the  tumult  the  rending  and  crashing  of  spars,  and  feel 
the  shattering  blow  of  their  great  masses  against  the 
hull  alongside.  But  still  the  vessel  appeared  staunch, 
although  every  inch  of  her  framework  visible  in  the 
cabin  was  all  awork. 

After  what  seemed  like  a  whole  day,  but  could  only 
have  been  two  or  three  hours,  she  began  to  right  her- 
self, and  the  din  outside  grew  less  deafening.  Rapidly 
the  howl  of  the  wind  moderated,  although  the  vessel 
still  tossed  and  tumbled  about  in  frantic  fashion,  until 
my  anxiety  to  see  daylight  again  got  the  better  of  my 
fears,  and  I  painfully  made  my  way  up  the  companion, 
opened  it,  and  stepped  on  to  the  poop.  The  sight  I 
beheld  took  away  my  breath.  The  Blitzen  was  a  com- 
plete wreck.  Not  a  stick  was  standing  except  the  three 
jagged  stumps  of  the  lower  masts ;  the  bulwarks  were 
stripped  from  her  sides  for  their  entire  length,  the 
house  on  deck  had  clean  disappeared,  and  everything 
that  could  be  torn  from  its  fastenings  about  the  decks 
had  gone  also.  It  was  a  clean  sweep.  A  cold  shiver 
went  through  me,  such  as  one  might  feel  upon  awak- 
ening to  find  his  house  roofless  and  all  his  household 
goods  exposed  to  the  glare  of  day.  But  the  sky  was 
clear,  the  sea  was  going  down,  and  we  were  still  afloat. 
A  great  wave  of  thankfulness  came  over  me,  suddenly 
checked  by  the  paralyzing  thought  that  perhaps  we 
had  sprung  a  leak.  I  stood  still  for  a  moment  while 
this  latest  fear  soaked  in ;  then,  bracing  myself  up  to 
learn  the  worst,  I  hurried  forrard  to  try  and  find  the 
rod  to  sound  the  well.     But  it  had  gone,  among  the 

83 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

rest  of  the  carpenter's  gear,  with  the  deck-house,  and  I 
was  obHged  to  give  up  the  idea.  Returning  aft,  I 
uncovered  the  cabin  skylight  and  went  below,  finding 
You  Sing  busy  preparing  some  food.  Then  I  sud- 
denly remembered  that  I  was  ravenously  hungry,  and 
we  all  three  sat  down  and  ate  our  fill  cheerfully  and 
gladly.  But  while  we  were  swallowing  the  last  morsels 
of  our  meal.  You  Sing  gravely  lifted  his  hand  and  sat 
listening  intently.  There  was  a  strange  sound  on  deck, 
and  it  made  me  almost  helpless  with  fear;  for  it 
sounded  like  the  singing  chatter  of  Chinese.  We  sat 
for  a  few  moments  as  if  suddenly  frozen,  listening  with 
every  faculty,  and  hardly  breathing.  Then,  ghost-like. 
You  Sing  rose,  and,  taking  the  two  of  us  by  the  arms, 
gently  persuaded  us  into  one  of  the  state-rooms  at 
hand,  and  signed  to  us  to  keep  close  while  he  went 
to  investigate.  Noiselessly  he  glided  away  from  us 
and  was  gone,  leaving  us  a  prey  to  the  most  harrow- 
ing sensations  in  the  belief  that  all  our  cruel  forebod- 
ings were  about  to  be  proved  true.  For  some  time  not 
a  sound  could  be  heard  in  our  hiding-place  except  the 
soothing  creak  of  the  timbers  or  the  wash  of  the 
caressing  waves  outside  the  hull.  Yet  I  remember 
curiously  how  even  in  that  agony  of  suspense  I  noticed 
that  the  motion  of  the  ship  was  changed.  She  no 
longer  seemed  to  swing  buoyantly  from  wave  to  wave, 
biit  solemnly,  stolidly,  she  rolled,  as  if  the  sea  had  taken 
possession  of  her,  and  bereft  her  of  her  own  grace  of 
mastery. 

A  confused  thudding  sound  reached  us  from  above, 
as  if  caused  by  the  pattering  of  bare  feet  on  deck; 

84 


You  Sing 


but  there  were  no  voices,  nor,  indeed,  any  other  noises 
to  give  us  a  clue  as  to  what  was  going  on.  Very  soon 
even  that  slight  sound  ceased,  and  we  were  left  again 
to  the  dumbness  of  our  surroundings.  The  child  went 
to  sleep ;  and  I,  after  perhaps  half  an  hour  of  strained 
listening,  felt  that  I  could  bear  this  condition  of  things 
no  longer,  for  it  had  seemed  like  a  whole  day  to  my 
excited  imaginings.  So,  as  silently  as  had  You  Sing 
long  ago,  I  stole  from  the  little  state-room  and  across 
the  saloon.  With  all  my  terrors  weighing  me  down, 
I  crawled,  worm-like,  up  the  companion-ladder,  and 
wriggled  on  to  the  deck  on  all-fours.  The  sea,  and  the 
sky,  and  the  barren  deck  all  lay  in  perfect  silence, 
which  pressed  upon  me  like  one  of  those  nightmares 
in  which  you  feel  that  unless  you  can  scream  you  must 
die.  After  two  or  three  attempts,  I  moistened  my 
parched  mouth  and  called,  "  You  Sing !  "  There  was 
no  voice  of  any  one  that  answered.  But  that  I  think 
the  limit  of  my  capacity  for  being  terrified  had  been 
reached  some  time  before,  I  believe  this  irresponsive- 
ness,  with  its  accompanying  sensation  of  being  utterly 
alone,  would  have  made  me  an  idiot.  As  it  was,  I 
only  felt  numbed  and  tired.  Slowly  I  stood  up  upon 
my  feet,  and  went  forrard  to  the  break  of  the  poop, 
learning  at  once  the  reason  of  You  Sing's  silence ; 
for  by  the  side  of  the  after-hatch  lay  three  Chinese, 
naked  and  dead,  bearing  on  their  bodies  the  grim  evi- 
dences of  the  method  of  their  ending.  Close  to  the 
cabin  door,  as  if  he  had  dragged  himself  away  from  his 
late  antagonists  in  the  vain  hope  of  reaching  his  friends 
again,  lay  You  Sing.  As  I  looked  down  upon  him  he 
7  85 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

moved  slightly.  In  a  moment,  forgetting  everything 
else,  I  was  by  his  side,  and  lifted  his  head  upon  my 
knee.  He  opened  his  glazing  eyes  and  looked  up 
into  my  face  with  his  old  sweet  smile,  now  with  some- 
thing of  highest  satisfaction  in  it.  His  dry  lips  opened, 
and  he  murmured,  "  'Ullo,  Tommy ;  all  litee,"  Then 
the  intelligence  faded  out  of  his  eyes,  and  he  left  me. 

It  must  have  been  hours  afterwards  when  I  again 
realized  my  surroundings.  Elsie  was  sitting  by  the 
piece  of  yellow  clay  that  had  been  You  Sing,  perfectly 
still,  but  with  an  occasional  tearing  sob.  She  must 
have  been  crying  for  a  long  time.  Gradually  the  whole 
of  the  past  came  back  to  me,  and  I  saw  how  our  dead 
friend  had  indeed  paid  in  full  what  he  considered  to  be 
his  debt  to  us ;  although  how  that  mild  and  gentle 
creature,  in  whom  I  never  saw  even  so  much  as  a 
shade  of  vexation,  much  less  anger,  could  have  risen 
to  such  a  height  of  fighting  valour  as  to  slay  three 
men  in  our  defence  was  utterly  beyond  my  powers  of 
comprehension.  For,  without  attempting  any  elo- 
quence of  panegyric,  that  was  precisely  what  he  had 
done,  and  with  his  opponent's  own  weapons,  too.  To 
say  that  I  had  not  really  felt  lonely  and  helpless  until 
now  only  faintly  conveys  the  appalling  sense  of  loss 
that  had  come  upon  me.  As  for  the  poor  child,  she 
crouched  by  the  side  of  the  corpse,  scarcely  more 
alive  than  it  was,  manifesting  no  fear  or  repugnance  at 
the  presence  of  death;  indeed,  she  appeared  unable  to 
realize  the  great  fact  in  its  full  terror. 

How  long  we  both  sat  in  this  dazed  condition  it  is 
impossible  to  say  with  any  definiteness.    No  doubt  it 

86 


You  Sing 


was  for  several  hours,  for  we  both  seemed  only  par- 
tially alive ;  and,  for  my  part,  the  only  impression  left 
was  that  all  besides  ourselves  were  dead.  That  feeling 
carried  with  it  a  dim  anticipation  that  we  too  might 
expect  to  find  our  turn  to  depart  confronting  us  at 
any  moment ;  but  in  this  thought  there  was  no  fear, 
rather  relief. 

How  often,  I  wonder,  has  it  been  noted  that  in 
times  of  deep  mental  distress,  when  the  mind  appears 
to  have  had  a  mortal  blow,  and  all  those  higher  facul- 
ties which  are  our  peculiar  possession  are  so  numbed 
that  they  give  no  definite  assistance  to  the  organism, 
the  animal  needs  of  the  body  have  instinctively  asserted 
themselves,  and  thus  saved  the  entire  man  or  woman 
from  madness  or  death?  It  must  surely  be  one  of  the 
commonest  of  experiences,  although  seldom  formu- 
lated in  so  many  words.  At  any  rate,  this  was  now  the 
case  with  me.  Gradually  the  fact  that  I  was  parched 
with  thirst  became  the  one  conscious  thing ;  and,  with- 
out thinking  about  it,  without  any  definite  idea  even, 
I  found  myself  on  my  feet,  swaying  and  staggering 
as  I  crossed  the  bare  deck  to  where  the  scuttle-butt 
used  to  be  lashed.  Finding  it  gone,  I  stood  helplessly 
staring  at  the  ends  of  the  lashings  that  had  secured  it, 
with  a  dull,  stupid  anger  of  disappointment.  Then  I 
began  to  think ;  I  had  to,  for  my  need  was  imperative. 
I  remembered  that  You  Sing  had  brought  into  the 
cabin  before  the  typhoon  a  store  of  water  suf!icicnt  for 
days.  This  mental  effort  was  bracing,  doing  much  to 
restore  me  again  to  some  show  of  usefulness.  I  soon 
found  the  water,  and  hurried  on  deck  once  more,  for 

87 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

the  cabin  was  no  place  to  stay  in  now.  It  was  tenanted 
by  shapes  of  dread,  full  of  inaudible  signs  of  woe ;  and 
right  glad  was  I  to  regain  the  side  of  the  little  girl 
for  living  companionship.  I  offered  her  some  water. 
She  looked  at  it  dully,  as  if  unable  to  attach  any  idea 
to  it ;  and  it  was  only  by  repeatedly  rousing  her  that  I 
managed  to  awaken  any  reason  in  her  injured  mind  at 
all.  In  the  absence  of  any  such  compulsion,  I  think 
she  would  have  just  sat  still  and  ceased  to  live,  pain- 
lessly and  unconsciously. 

Now  that  the  needs  of  another  were  laid  upon  me,  I 
began  to  move  about  a  little  more  briskly,  and  to 
notice  our  condition  with  returning  interest.  For 
some  time  the  strange  steadiness  of  the  ship  had  puz- 
zled me  without  arousing  any  definite  inquiry  in  my 
mind  as  to  the  cause  of  it.  But  in  crossing  the  deck 
to  re-enter  the  cabin  the  true  significance  of  that  want 
of  motion  suddenly  burst  upon  me,  for  I  saw  the  calm 
face  of  the  water  only  a  few  inches  from  the  deck-line. 
The  Blitzen  was  sinking.  During  the  typhoon  she 
must  have  received  tremendous  injuries  from  the 
wreckage  of  her  top-hamper,  that,  floating  alongside, 
entangled  in  the  web  of  its  rigging,  was  as  dangerous 
as  so  many  rocks  would  have  been.  There  was  ur- 
gent need  now  for  thought  and  action  also,  for  there 
was  nothing  of  any  kind  on  deck  floatable.  Boats, 
spars,  hen-coops,  all  had  gone.  A  thousand  futile 
thoughts  chased  one  another  through  my  throbbing 
brain,  but  they  ran  in  circles  that  led  nowhere.  There 
seemed  to  be  no  possible  means  of  escape.  Yet  some- 
how I  was  not  hopeless.    I  felt  a  curious  reliance  upon 

88 


You  Sing 


the  fact  that  we  two  small  people  had  come  through  so 
much  unhurt  in  any  way,  and  this  baseless  unreasoning 
faith  in  our  good  (?)  fortune  forbade  me  to  despair. 
So  that  I  cannot  say  I  felt  greatly  surprised  when  I 
presently  saw  on  the  starboard  side  forrard  a  small 
sampan  floating  placidly,  its  grass  painter  made  fast  to 
the  fore-chains.  There  was  no  mystery  about  its  ap- 
pearance. It  had  brought  those  awful  visitors  whose 
defeat  caused  You  Sing  his  life,  and  was  probably  the 
only  surviving  relic  of  some  junk  that  had  foundered 
in  the  storm.  The  sight  of  it  did  me  a  world  of  good. 
Rushing  to  Elsie,  I  pointed  out  the  fact  of  our  imme- 
diate danger,  and  of  the  hope  left  us,  and  after  some 
little  diflficulty  succeeded  in  getting  her  into  the  sam- 
pan. The  Blitzen  was  now  so  low  in  the  water  that 
my  remaining  time  was  countable  by  seconds.  I 
flew  into  the  cabin,  snatched  up  a  few  biscuits  and  the 
large  can  of  water  that  stood  in  the  bathroom,  and 
rushed  for  the  boat.  As  I  scrambled  into  her  with  my 
burden  I  noticed  shudderingly  that  the  ship  was  be- 
ginning to  move,  but  with  such  a  motion!  It  was 
like  the  death-throe  of  a  man — a  physical  fact  with 
which  of  late  I  had  been  well  acquainted.  Every  plank 
of  her  groaned  as  if  in  agony;  she  gave  a  quivering 
sideway  stagger.  My  fingers  trembled  so  that  I  could 
hardly  cast  adrift  the  painter,  which  I  was  compelled 
to  do,  having  no  knife.  I  got  the  clumsy  hitches 
adrift  at  last,  and  with  one  of  the  rough  oars  gave  our 
frail  craft  a  vigorous  shove  off,  Elsie  staring  all  the 
while  at  the  huge  hull  with  dilating  eyes  and  drawn 
white  face.    Presently  the  Blitzen  seemed  to  stumble; 

89 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

a  wave  upreared  itself  out  of  the  smooth  brightness  of 
the  placid  sea  and  embraced  her  bows,  drawing  them 
gently  down.  So  gently,  like  a  tired  woman  sinking 
to  rest,  did  the  Blitzen  leave  the  light,  and  only  a  few 
foam-flecked  whorls  and  spirals  on  the  surface  marked 
for  a  minute  or  two  the  spot  where  she  had  been. 

Happily  for  us  who  were  left,  our  troubles  were 
nearly  at  an  end.  One  calm  night  of  restless  dozing 
under  the  warm  sky,  trying  not  to  think  of  what  a 
tiny  bubble  we  made  on  the  wide  sea,  we  passed  not 
uncomfortably.  Just  before  dawn  I  felt  rather  than 
heard  a  throbbing,  its  regular  pulsations  beating  stead- 
ily as  if  inside  my  head.  But  they  had  not  lasted  one 
minute  before  I  knew  them  for  the  propeller-beat  of 
a  steamer,  and  strained  my  eyes  around  through  the 
departing  darkness  for  a  sight  of  her.  Straight  for  us 
she  came,  the  watchful  officer  on  the  bridge  having 
seen  us  more  than  a  mile  oflf.  In  the  most  matter-of- 
fact  way  we  were  taken  on  board,  and  Elsie  was  soon 
mothered  by  the  skipper's  wife,  while  I  was  being 
made  much  of  by  the  men.  And  that  was  all.  Of  all 
that  mass  of  treasure  that  had  caused  the  sacrifice  of 
so  many  lives  not  one  atom  remained  where  it  could 
ever  again  raise  the  demon  of  murder  in  human 
breasts.  And  although  I  could  not  realize  all  this,  I 
really  did  not  feel  sorry  that  I  had  not  succeeded  in 
saving  the  slightest  portion  of  it,  my  thankfulness  at 
being  spared  alive  being  so  great. 

There  were  no  passengers  on  board  to  make  a  fuss, 
so  none  was  made.  Three  days  afterwards  we  were  at 
Hong  Kong,  and  Elsie  was  handed  over  to  the  German 

90 


You  Sing 


Consul,  who  gravely  took  down  my  story,  but  I  could 
see  did  not  believe  half  of  it  I  bade  good-bye  to 
Elsie,  having  elected  to  remain  by  the  steamer,  where 
I  was  being  well  treated,  and  in  due  time  reached 
England  again,  a  step  nearer  to  becoming  a  full-fledged 
seaman. 


91 


THE   DEBT  OF  THE  WHALE 

Elisha  Gushing,  skipper  of  the  Beluga,  South 
Seaman,  of  Martha's  Vineyard,  was  a  hard-bitten 
Yankee  of  the  toughest  of  that  tough  race.  Even  in 
the  sternest  of  mankind  there  is  usually  to  be  found 
some  soft  spot,  some  deeply-hidden  well  of  feeling  that 
at  the  touch  of  the  right  hand  will  bubble  up  in  a 
kindly  stream,  even  though  it  be  hermetically  sealed 
to  all  the  world  beside.  But  those  who  knew  Captain 
Gushing  best  were  wont  to  say  that  he  must  have  been 
cradled  on  an  iceberg,  spent  his  childhood  in  a  whaler's 
fo'c's'le,  hardened  himself  by  the  constant  contempla- 
tion and  practice  of  cruelty,  until,  having  arrived  at 
the  supreme  position  of  master  of  his  own  ship,  he  was 
less  of  a  man  than  a  pitiless  automaton  who  regarded 
neither  God  nor  devil,  and  only  looked  upon  other  men 
as  an  engineer  might  upon  the  cogs  of  a  machine.  Few, 
indeed,  are  the  men  who,  throughout  a  voyage  lasting 
from  three  to  four  years,  shut  up  within  the  narrow 
bounds  of  a  small  ship,  could  entirely  do  without  hu- 
man companionship,  could  abstain  from  some  friendly 
intercourse,  however  infrequent,  with  those  around 
them.  Yet  Gaptain  Gushing  was  even  such  a  man. 
No  one  knew  how  he  passed  his  abundant  leisure.  He 
was  never  seen  reading,  he  did  not  smoke,  no  intoxi- 

93 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

eating  drink  was  ever  allowed  on  board  his  ship ;  in 
fact  at  all  times,  except  when  whale-fishing  was  being 
carried  on,  he  was  to  all  appearance  a  body  without 
a  mind,  a  figure  of  a  man  who  moved  and  ate  and 
slept  mechanically,  yet  whom  to  offend  was  to  court 
nothing  less  than  torture.  Those  unspeculating  eyes 
missed  nothing;  not  a  member  of  the  crew  but  felt 
that  in  some  not-to-be-explained  fashion  all  his  doings, 
almost  his  very  thoughts,  were  known  to  the  grim 
commander,  and  hard,  indeed,  was  the  lot  of  any  un- 
fortunate who  in  any  way  came  athwart  the  stern  code 
of  rules  that  appeared'  to  govern  Captain  Cushing's 
command.  Nevertheless  he  had  one  virtue — he  did 
not  interfere.  So  long  as  the  business  of  the  ship 
went  on  as  goes  a  good  clock,  there  was  peace.  The 
discipline  was  perfect;  it  reduced  the  human  items 
that  composed  the  Beluga's  crew  to  something  very 
nearly  resembling  a  piece  of  carefully  constructed 
mechanism,  for  Captain  Cushing's  genius  lay  that  way. 
Out  of  the  many  crews  that  he  had  commanded  dur- 
ing his  thirty  years'  exercise  of  absolute  power  he  was 
wont  to  winnow  officers  that  were  a  reflex  of  his  own 
mind,  and  it  mattered  not  how  raw  were  the  recruits 
bundled  on  board  his  ship  at  the  last  moment  before 
leaving  home,  the  Cushing  system  speedily  reduced 
them  to  a  condition  of  absolute  mindlessness  as  far  as 
any  wish  of  their  own  was  concerned.  They  became 
simply  parts  of  the  engine  whereby  Captain  Cushing's 
huge  store  of  dollars  was  augmented. 

It  was  an  article  of  religion  among  the  afterguard 
of  the  Beluga,  handed  on  to  each  new-comer  by  some 

94 


The  Debt  of  the  Whale 

unspoken  code  of  communication,  that  the  "  old 
man's  "  being  and  doing  might  never  be  discussed. 
The  subject  was  "  tabu,"  not  to  be  approached  upon 
any  pretext,  although  nothing  could  be  more  certain 
than  that  it  lay  uppermost  in  every  officer's  mind. 
Among  the  crew,  in  that  stifling  den  forrard  where 
thirty  men  of  almost  as  many  differing  nationalities 
lived  and  sometimes  died,  the  mystery  of  the  grim 
skipper's  ways,  coupled  with  queer  yarns  about  his 
antecedents,  was  occasionally  commented  upon  with 
bated  breath  in  strange  mixtures  of  language.  But 
somehow  it  always  happened  that,  closely  following 
upon  any  conversation  of  the  kind,  the  injudicious 
talkers  ran  butt  up  against  serious  trouble.  No  charges 
were  made,  no  definite  punishments  were  awarded; 
but  loss  of  rest,  dangerous  and  unnecessary  tasks, 
kickings  and  stripes  exhibited  casually,  were  their  por- 
tion for  a  season.  These  things  had  the  effect  of  ex- 
citing an  almost  superstitious  reverence  for  the  cap- 
tain's powers  of  knowing  what  was  going  on,  coupled 
with  a  profound  distrust  of  each  other  among  the  fore- 
mast hands,  that  made  for  their  subjection  perhaps 
more  potently  than  even  the  physical  embarrassments 
which  formed  so  liberal  a  part  of  their  daily  lot.  And 
yet,  such  is  the  perversity  of  human  nature,  whenever 
the  Beluga  gammed  another  whaler,  and  the  wretched 
crowd  got  a  chance  to  talk  to  strangers,  they  actually 
indulged  in  tall  talk,  "  gas  "  about  their  skipper's  smart- 
ness as  a  whaleman,  his  ability  as  a  seaman,  and, 
strangest  of  all,  his  eminence  as  a  hard  citizen  who 
would  "  jes'  soon  killer  man's  look  at  'im."     Every 

95 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

•fresh  device  of  his  for  screwing  extra  work  out  of  his 
galley-slaves,  every  mean  and  low-down  trick  played 
upon  them  for  the  lessening  of  their  scanty  food  or 
robbing  them  of  their  hard-earned  lay,  only  seemed  to 
increase  their  admiration  for  him,  as  if  his  diabolical 
personality  had  actually  inverted  all  their  ideas  of  right 
and  wrong. 

The  man  himself,  the  centre  of  this  little  cosmos 
of  whose  dreary  round  pleasure  formed  not  the  minut- 
est part,  was  apparently  about  55  years  of  age.  He 
had  been  tall,  above  the  average,  but  a  persistent  stoop 
had  modified  that  particular  considerably.  The  great 
peculiarity  about  his  appearance  was  his  head,  which 
was  shaped  much  like  a  fir-cone.  From  the  apex  of 
it  fell  a  few  straggling  wisps  of  hay-coloured  hair  that 
did  not  look  as  if  they  belonged  there,  but  had  been 
blown  against  the  scalp  and  stuck  there  accidentally. 
Wide,  outstanding  ears,  pointed  at  the  top  like  a  bat's, 
eyes  that  were  just  straight  slits  across  the  parchment 
face,  from  between  whose  bare  edges  two  inscrutable 
pupils  of  different  but  unnameable  colours  looked  out, 
a  straight,  perfectly  shaped  nose,  so  finely  finished  that 
it  looked  artificial,  and  another  straight  lipless  slit  for 
a  mouth  completes  his  facial  portrait.  His  arms  were 
abnormally  long,  and  his  legs  short,  while  his  gait, 
from  long  walking  upon  greasy  decks,  was  a  bear-like 
shuffle.  It  was  whispered  in  the  fo'c's'le  that  his 
strength  was  gigantic,  and  there  was  a  tradition  extant 
of  his  having  wrung  a  recalcitrant  harpooner's  neck 
with  his  bare  hands  as  one  would  a  fowl's ;  but  none 
of  his  present  crew  had  seen  him  exert  himself  at  all. 

96 


The  Debt  of  the  Whale 

What  impressed  them  most,  however,  was  his  voice. 
Ordinarily  he  spoke  in  almost  a  faint  whisper,  such  as 
a  dying  man  might  be  supposed  to  utter,  but  it  must 
have  been  very  distinct  in  articulation,  as  he  was  never 
known  to  speak  twice.  Yet,  if  at  any  time  it  became 
necessary  for  him  to  hail  a  boat  or  a  passing  ship,  that 
strange  opening  in  his  head  would  unclose,  and  forth 
from  it  would  issue  a  strident  sound  that  carried  farther 
than  the  bellow  of  any  angry  bull. 

His  "  luck  "  was  proverbial.  None  of  his  officers 
ever  knew,  any  more  than  did  the  meanest  member 
of  the  ship's  company,  whither  he  was  bound,  nor  in 
what  unfrequented  areas  of  ocean  he  sought  the  valu- 
able creatures  from  which  he  was  amassing  so  much 
wealth.  Of  course,  they  knew,  as  all  sailors  do  from 
close  observation  of  courses  made,  land  seen,  weather, 
etc.,  within  a  few  hundred  miles  or  so,  but  their  knowl- 
edge was  never  ample  enough  to  have  enabled  them 
afterwards  to  take  another  ship  along  the  same  tracks 
that  the  Beluga  had  found  so  richly  frequented  by 
payable  whales.  But  Elisha  Gushing  added  to  his  so- 
called  luck  almost  superhuman  energy.  If  he  did  not 
spare  his  unhappy  slaves,  he  was  no  more  merciful  to 
himself.  Never  a  boat  was  lowered  after  whales,  no 
matter  what  the  weather  or  how  few  the  prey,  but  he 
was  foremost ;  as  if  he  loved  (if  it  be  admissible  to  men- 
tion love  in  connection  with  this  emotionless  man) 
the  chase  for  its  own  sake,  or,  knowing  that  he  carried 
a  charmed  life,  dared  to  take  risks  that  no  ordinary 
man  would  do  except  under  compulsion.  There  was 
one  marked  feature  of  his  whaling,  however,  that  was 

97 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

noticed  by  all  his  crew,  if,  owing  to  the  difficulties 
hinted  at  before,  it  was  seldom  discussed.  Whenever 
the  boats  approached  either  a  single  whale  or  a  whale 
school.  Captain  Gushing  would  surely  be  seen  standing 
high  on  the  two  quarter-cleats  in  the  stern-sheets  of 
his  boat,  searching  with  sparkling,  almost  glaring  eyes 
among  them  for  something.  It  was  believed  that  the 
boats  never  "  went  on  a  whale  "  until  the  skipper  had 
first  passed  them  (the  whales)  all  in  review,  and  fully 
satisfied  himself  that  the  object  of  his  search,  whatever 
it  might  be,  was  not  there.  His  scrutiny  over,  the 
game  commenced,  and  surely  never,  since  the  bold 
Biscayan  fishermen  first  attacked  the  questing  rorquals 
that  visited  their  shores,  with  bone  and  flint  pointed 
lances,  was  there  ever  seen  such  whale-hunting  as  that 
carried  on  by  Elisha  Gushing.  Without  changing 
colour,  or  raising  his  voice  above  its  usual  low  mur- 
mur, he  would  haul  his  boat  up  alongside  of  the  moun- 
tainous mammal,  order  her  to  be  held  there,  and  then, 
disregarding  the  writhings  and  wallowing  of  the  great 
creature,  he  would  calmly  feel  for  the  ribs  or  the' 
shoulder-blades  with  the  lance  point.  And  having 
found  an  interspace,  the  long  arms  would  straighten 
out,  and  four  feet  of  the  lance  would  glide  like  a 
slender  bright  snake  into  the  mighty  vitals,  only  to 
be  withdrawn  on  the  instant  and  plunged  home  again 
and  again  and  again,  each  thrust  taking  a  new  turn 
within,  and  causing  the  black,  hot  blood  to  burst  from 
the  wound  as  from  the  nozzle  of  a  fire-hose.  Or, 
quietly  seated  on  the  gunwale,  he  would  select  his 
spot,  and  probe  with  the  lance  as  a  surgeon  might 

98 


The  Debt  of  the  Whale 

seek  for  a  bullet  in  the  body  of  an  insensible  patient. 
Should  the  boat  swerve  away  from  the  whale  ever  so 
slightly  until  he  gave  the  signal,  he  would  look  round, 
and  on  the  instant  five  men,  albeit  in  the  very  shadow 
of  death,  would  feel  a  creeping  at  the  pit  of  their  stom- 
achs, and  a  frantic  desire  to  avert  his  anger ;  for  he  had 
been  known  to  reach  across  the  boat  and  snatch  a  man 
from  his  thwart  with  one  hand,  flinging  him,  a  limp, 
ragged  bundle,  far  out  of  the  boat,  and  not  caring 
where.  The  only  signs  that  he  ever  showed  of  any- 
thing unusual  being  toward,  was  a  faint  blue  patch 
that  appeared  in  the  middle  of  his  otherwise  yellow 
cheek,  and  a  reddish  glint  in  his  eyes.  In  spite  of  his 
peculiarities,  his  men  were  proud  to  be  members  of 
his  boat's  crew,  for  his  skill  was  of  so  high  an  order 
that  his  apparent  recklessness  never  got  him  a  boat 
stove  or  lost  him  a  man ;  while  his  officers,  though  the 
pick  and  flower  of  whalemen,  had  their  usual  share  of 
casualties. 

About  two  years  of  the  cruise  had  gone  by,  and  the 
Beluga's  hold  was  already  more  than  two-thirds  full 
of  oil,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  several  shipments  home 
had  been  made  during  the  voyage.  After  a  season  on 
the  Vasquez  ground  in  the  South  Pacific,  where  she 
had  averaged  two  whales  a  week,  she  was  now  steer- 
ing an  easterly  course  with  a  little  south  in  it — not 
cruising,  but  making  a  passage  apparently  for  the 
"  off-shore  grounds,"  on  the  coast  of  Chili.  One 
morning  at  daybreak  the  cry  of  "  sail-ho  "  from  the 
crow's-nest  reached  Captain  Cushing  in  his  cabin,  and 
before  the  officer  on  deck  had  time  to  answer,  his 

99 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

deep  breathed  tones  were  heard  welHng  up  from  below 
in  reply,  "  Where  away."  The  stranger  was  a  whaling 
barque  also,  lying  hove-to  right  ahead,  as  if  expecting 
and  waiting  for  the  Beluga.  When  the  two  vessels 
were  within  three  miles  of  each  other.  Captain  Gushing 
ordered  his  boat  away,  and  with  an  order  to  the  mate 
to  "  keep  her  jes  's  she  is,"  he  departed.  No  sooner 
had  his  crew  put  him  alongside  than  he  climbed  on 
board,  and,  contrary  to  the  usual  practice,  ordered 
them  away  from  the  stranger,  telling  them  to  lie  on 
their  oars  at  a  little  distance  until  he  should  call  them. 
The  skipper  of  the  stranger  (still  an  unknown  ship  to 
the  Beluga's  crew,  as  she  had  no  name  visible)  met 
Captain  Cushing  at  the  gangway,  presenting  as  com- 
plete a  contrast  to  that^inscrutable  man  as  could  well 
be  imagined.  A  dumpy,  apple-faced  little  fellow,  with 
a  lurking  smile  in  every  dimple,  and  a  mat  of  bright 
red  curls  covering  his  round  head.  Snatching  the 
languidly  offered  paw  of  his  visitor,  he  burst  forth, 
"  Wall,  ef  this  ent  grate !  I  be  tarnally  ding-busted 
ef  I  wa'nt  a  talkin'  'bout  ye  las'  night,  talkin'  t'  meself 
that  is,"  he  hastily  interjected,  upon  seeing  the  look 
that  Cushing  turned  upon  him.  "  But  kem  along 
daown  b'low  n'hev — ^wall  I  wonder  wut  y'  will  hev. 
Don'  seem  sif  y'  ever  hev  anythin'.  Nev'  mine,  less 
git  b'low  anyhaow."    And  together  they  descended. 

For  a  long  time  the  little  man  did  all  the  talking 
— after  the  manner  of  a  trusted  manager  of  a  thriving 
business  making  his  report  to  his  principal.  He  told 
of  whales  caught,  of  boats  stove,  of  gear  carried  away 
— quite    the    usual    routine — while    Cushing    listened 

100 


The  Debt  of  the  Whale 

with  his  impenetrable  mask,  through  which  it  was  im- 
possible to  see  whether  he  was  interested  or  not.  It 
was  like  talking  to  a  graven  image.  But  still,  as  the 
tale  went  on,  and  it  appeared  that  the  little  talker  had 
been  fairly  successful,  there  was  a  slight  relaxing  of 
the  rigid  pose,  which  to  the  eye  of  the  initiate  spelt 
satisfaction.  For  all  unknown  to  any  one  except  the 
ruddy  skipper  talking  to  him,  Gushing  was  really  the 
owner  of  this  unnamed  ship — a  vessel  that  he  had 
stolen  from  an  anchorage  in  the  Pelew  Islands,  while 
all  her  crew  were  ashore  on  a  furious  debauch  which 
had  lasted  for  several  weeks,  and  had  ever  since  been 
running  her  in  this  mysterious  fashion  by  the  aid  of 
the  one  man  in  the  wide  world  in  whom  he  could  be 
said  to  repose  any  confidence.  That  story  is,  however, 
too  long  to  be  told  here. 

The  recital  was  apparently  finished,  when  suddenly, 
as  if  he  had  just  remembered  an  important  part  of  his 
report,  the  narrator  resumed,  his  jolly  red  face  assum- 
ing an  air  of  gravity  that  was  strangely  out  of  harmony 
.with  it.  "  An*  cap',"  said  he,  "  I'd  eenamost  f ergot — 
I  met  up  with  the  spotted  whale  of  the  Bonins  las' 
cruise.    I " 

But  there  was  a  sudden  change,  an  unearthly 
brightening  into  copper  colour  of  Cushing's  face,  as 
he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and,  with  his  long  fingers  work- 
ing convulsively,  gurgled  out,  "  'R  ye  sure  ?  Don't 
ye  mislead  me,  Silas,  'r  ye'd  be  better  dead  every 
time.  Naow  yew  jest  gi'  me  th'  hull  hang  o'  this 
thing  'fore  y'  say  'nother  word  'bout  anythin' !  " 

There  was  no  mask  of  indifference  now.  The  man 
8  lOl 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

was  transformed  into  a  living  embodiment  of  eager 
desire,  and  bold  indeed  would  any  have  been  that 
would  have  dared  to  thwart  him.  -  No  such  idea  was 
in  his  hearer's  thoughts,  at  any  rate,  for  no  sooner  had 
he  done  speaking  than  Silas  leaned  forward  and  said — 

"  Yes,  cap',  I  am  sure,  not  thet  it's  hardly  wuth 
while  sayin'  so,  fur  yew  couldn't  imagine  me  bein' 
mistook  over  a  critter  like  thet.  'Twas  this  way.  Ev' 
since  thet  affair  I've  scurcely  ever  fergot  yew're  or- 
ders— t'  look  eout  fer  Spotty  an'  let  ye'  know  fust 
chance  whar  he  uz  usin'  roun',  but  at  this  perticler 
lowerin'  we  jest  had  all  eour  soup  ladled  eout  fer  us 
an'  no  mistake.  Ther'd  ben  a  matter  o'  a  dozen  ships 
ov  us  in  compny,  'n  I  wuz  bizzy  figgerin'  haow  t'  git 
rid'r  some  ov  'em  befo'  we  struck  whale.  I  noo  they 
wuz  abaout;  the  air  wuz  jest  thick  up  with  whale 
smell,  'n  every  one  ov  my  boys  wuz  all  alive.  Wall, 
we  hove  to  thet  night  's  ushal  till  midnight,  'n  then 
I  sez  t'  myself,  sez  I,  ef  I  don't  up-stick  'n  run  south 
I'm  a  horse.  Fur,  ye  see,  'twuz  born  in  'pon  me  thet 
whales  wuz  comin'  up  from  the  line  away,  'n  a  big 
school  too.  I  doan'  know  why,  ov  course  not,  but 
thar  twuz — y'  know  how  'tis  yerself. 

"  Sure  'nough  by  dayspring  they  wa'nt  a  ship  in 
sight  of  us,  but  at  seven  bells  we  raised  whale,  'n  b' 
gosh  I  reckon  they  was  mos'  a  thousan'  of  'em  spread 
all  out  to  looard  of  us  more  like  a  school  o'  porps  than 
hunderd  bar'l  whales — which  they  wuz  every  last  one 
ov  'em,  cep  them  thet  wuz  bigger.  They  wa'nt  much 
wind,  'n  we  lowered  five  boats  'n  put  f 'r  them  whales 
all  we  knew.    Tell  y'  wut,  cap',  I've  seen  some  tall 

1 02 


The  Debt  of  the  Whale 

spoutin',  but  that  mornin's  work  jest  laid  raight  over 
all  I  ever  heer  tell  ov,  much  less  see.  We  all  got  fas* 
on  the  jump,  'n  then  we  cut  loose  agen.  Reason  why, 
we  couldn't  move  fur  'em.  They  jest  crowded  in  on 
us,  quite  quiet ;  they  wa'nt  a  bit  er  fight  in  one  ov  'em, 
and  we  handled  the  lances  on  the  nearest.  That  patch 
o'  sea  wuz  jest  a  saladero  now  I'm  tellin'  ye.  We  never 
chipped  a  splinter  ner  used  ten  fathom  o'  tow  line, 
'n  be  my  recknin  we  killed  twenty  whales.  Gradjully 
the  crowd  drawed  off,  leavin'  us  with  all  that  plunder 
lyin'  roun'  loose,  an  I  wuz  beginnin'  t'  wish  I  hadn't 
run  so  fur  away  from  the  fleet.  Fur  I  knew  we  couldn' 
handle  sech  a  haul's  thet — more'n  haef  ov  em  'd  be  rot- 
ten 'fore  we  c'd  cut  in  ef  we'd  worked  f'r  a  week  on 
eend  'thout  a  minnit's  rest. 

"  While  we  wuz  jest  drawin'  breth  like  after  th'  war, 
and  the  shipkeepers  'uz  a  workin'  her  daown  t'  us,  my 
harponeer  sings  out  'sif  he'd  a  ben  snake  bit,  '  Blow-w-s 
'n  breaches !  Ee'r  sh'  white  waterrs.  Madre  di  Gloria, 
Capena,  lookee  what  come.'  'N  thar  shore  nuflf  he  uz 
comin';  Spotty  fur  true.  I  know,  cap.  I  never  see 
him  afore.  All  I  knoo  'bout  him  uz  wut  ye  told  me,  an' 
I  doan  mine  ownin'  up  naow  at  I  thought  y'  mout  ha 
ben  a  bit  loony  on  thet  subjec,  but  I  tek  it  all  back,  'n 
'umbly  axes  yer  pardin. 

"  Yaas,  sir,  he  come ;  like  all  hell  let  loose.  He  jes 
flung  himself  along  the  top  er  th'  sea  like  a  dolphin, 
'n  I  reckin  we  all  felt  kiender  par'litic.  Soon's  I  got 
me  breath  I  sings  out  t'  cut  adrif,  fur  we'd  all  got  tow- 
lines  fast  to  flukes  ready  to  pass  abroad,  and  handle 
bomb-guns  quick.    Then  when  he  come  within  range 

103 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

t'  let  him  have  'em  full  butt  'n  put  f'r  th'  ship.  Don't 
say  I  felt  very  brash  'baout  it,  but  twuz  the  best  I  c'd 
think  ov.  He  kem,  oh  yes,  sir,  he  kem,  'n  the  sight  of 
his  charge  brung  a  verse  of  th'  Bible  (haint  looked 
inside  one  f'r  twenty  years)  into  my  mind.  Goes 
suthin  like  this  *  The  mountings  skipped  like  rams,  th' 
little  hills  like  young  sheep.'  We  done  all  we  knoo, 
we  twisted  and  tarned  an'  pulled  an'  starned ;  but  you 
know,  cap,  better'n  any  of  us,  thet  the  boat  never  was 
built  thet  c'd  git  out  of  th'  way  ov  a  spalmacitty  whale 
when  he'd  made  up  his  mine  fur  mischief.  'N  we 
wa'nt  no  excepshin.  We  weakened  at  las',  'n  took  th' 
water,  whar  we  knoo  he  wouldn't  tech  us,  'n  b'  gosh  he 
didn'  leave  a  plank  o'  one  o'  them  thar  boats  whole.  I 
doan  know  why  he  didn'  foller  it  up  or  go  fur  th'  ship. 
Ef  he  hed  thar'd  a  ben  an  eend  of  the  story,  sure.  But 
no,  he  just  disappeared  quiet  's  death,  'n  we  all  gut 
picked  up  in  time.  Yes,  'n  we  managed  to  rig  up  our 
spare  boat  'n  git  five  of  them  whales  cut  in  too,  though 
I'm  free  t'  confess  the  last  of  'em  wuz  middlin'  gamey 
by  th'  time  they  got  t'  th'  try  pots.  The  rest  jest 
floated  erroun  'n  stunk  up  th'  North  Persific  Ocean  till 
twuz  like  a  graveyard  struck  be  'n  erthquake.  But  we 
got  six  hunderd  barl  out  of  th'  catch,  anyway." 

While  the  recital  was  proceeding,  Cushing's  face 
was  a  study.  He  listened  without  moving  a  muscle, 
but  rage,  hope,  and  joy  chased  one  another  over  that 
usually  expressionless  mask  like  waves  raised  by  sud- 
den squalls  over  the  calm  surface  of  a  sheltered  lake. 
And  when  it  was  over  he  rose  wearily,  saying — 

"  All  right,  Jacob ;  when  ye're  through  put  fur  the 
104 


The  Debt  of  the  Whale 

old  rondyvoos  an'  discharge.  I'll  be  long  'bout  March 
an'  range  fur  next  cruise.  So  long.  I'm  off  t'  th' 
Bonins  full  pelt." 

"  But,  Cap'n  Gushing,  is  ut  worth  huntin'  up  that 
gauldem  spotty  beast  'n  gettin'  'tarnally  smashed  up 
fur  an'  idee?  Why  caint  y'  leave  'im  alone?  Sure's 
deeth  he'll  do^e  a  hurt.  Take  a  fool's  advice,  cap'n, 
'n  let  him  die  ov  ole  age  or  accident." 

"  Jacob,  my  man,  y'  fergit  yerself.  When  I  want 
yew're  advice,  I'll  seek  it.  Till  then  don't  ye  offer  it. 
Tain't  t'  my  likin',  fur  I'm  accustomed  to  take  no  man 
as  my  counsellor.  So  long  once  more,  'n  don't  fergit 
y'r  orders." 

In  two  strides  he  reached  the  top  of  the  companion- 
ladder,  and  with  that  wide-breathed  cry  of  his  that  we 
knew  so  well  had  summoned  his  boat.  She  sprang  to 
the  nameless  barque's  side  like  a  living  thing.  Captain 
Gushing  stepped  into  her,  and  the  queer  gam  was 
over.  Back  alongside  he  came,  standing  erect  as  a 
monolith  in  the  stern-sheets,  and,  hardly  allowing  time 
for  the  boat  to  be  hooked  on,  issued  rapid  orders  for 
all  sail  to  be  made ;  the  helm  was  put  hard  up,  and 
away  we  went  N.W.  No  one  ventured  an  opinion 
upon  this  sudden  change,  but  every  one  looked  vol- 
umes of  inquiry.  And  no  one  dared  even  hint  to  his 
fellow  the  wonder,  the  painful  curiosity,  he  felt  as,  day 
after  day,  before  a  strong  south-east  trade,  the  Beluga 
did  her  steady  seven  knots  an  hour,  nor  stayed  for  any- 
thing. Again  and  again  the  cry  of "  blow  "  came  ring- 
ing down  from  the  crows'-nests,  and  as  often  as  it  was 
heard  the  old  man  mounted  aloft  with  his  glasses,  and 

105 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

stayed  until  he  had  apparently  satisfied  himself  of 
something.  But  never  a  halt  did  we  make.  No,  and 
as  if  the  very  whales  themselves  knew  of  our  pre-occu- 
pation,  a  school  actually  rose  near  and  accompanied  us 
for  a  whole  watch,  gambolling  along  massively  within 
gun-shot  on  either  side.  They  might  as  well  have 
been  a  thousand  miles  away  for  all  the  notice  the  old 
man  took  of  them.  He  just  leaned  upon  the  weather- 
rail,  gazing  with  expressionless  face  at  the  unchanging 
ring  of  the  horizon — a  fathomless  enigma  to  all  of  us. 
The  proximity  of  those  whales,  however,  troubled  the 
officers  more  than  anything  else  had  done,  and  it  took 
all  their  inbred  terror  of  the  old  man  to  keep  them 
from  breaking  into  open  mutiny.  Even  among  us, 
who  had  little  interest  in  the  voyage  from  a  monetary 
point  of  view,  and  to  whom  the  capture  of  whales  only 
meant  a  furious  outburst  of  the  hardest  work,  the  feel- 
ing of  indignation  at  the  loss  of  so  grand  an  oppor- 
tunity was  exceedingly  hard  to  bear. 

Onward  we  sped  until  we  got  among  the  islands, 
but  no  slackening  of  haste,  except  when  the  wind 
lulled,  was  indulged  in.  By  day  or  by  night  we 
threaded  those  mazy  archipelagoes  as  if  the  whole  in- 
tricate navigation  was  as  familiar  to  the  skipper  as 
the  rooms  of  his  cabin.  Such  ship-handling  surely 
never  was  seen.  Perched  upon  the  fore-yard,  the  only 
light  visible  being  the  blazing  foam  spreading  widely 
out  on  either  bow  and  ahead  where  the  staunch  old 
ship  plunged  through  those  phosphorescent  waters, 
the  glowing  patches  cropping  up  hither  and  thither  all 
around  as  the  indolent  Pacific  swell  broke  irritably 

1 06 


The  Debt  of  the  Whale 

over  some  up-cropping  coral  patch,  and  the  steely 
sparkles  of  the  stars  in  the  blue-black  sky  above,  Cap- 
tain Gushing  conned  the  ship  as  easily  and  confidently 
as  a  pilot  entering  New  York  harbour  on  midsummer 
day,  his  quiet  voice  sounding  down  from  where  he 
crouched  invisible  as  if  we  were  being  celestially  di- 
rected. There  was  no  feeling  of  apprehension  among 
us,  for  our  confidence  in  his  genius  was  perfect,  mak- 
ing us  sure  that  whatever  of  skill  in  navigation  was 
required  he  surely  possessed  it. 

Nevertheless,  the  mystery  of  our  haste  across  the 
whole  vast  breadth  of  the  Pacific  fretted  every  man, 
even  the  dullest.  It  was  outside  all  our  previous  ex- 
perience. Perhaps  the  only  thing  that  made  it  bear- 
able was  the  knowledge  that  not  one  of  the  officers  was 
any  better  informed  than  we  were.  Foremast  hands 
are  always  jealous  of  the  information  obtainable  in 
the  cuddy,  and  even  though  it  may  not  be  of  the 
slightest  use  to  them,  any  scrap  they  may  obtain  gives 
to  the  lucky  eavesdropper  a  sort  of  brevet-rank  for 
the  time  being.  Here,  however,  all  that  was  to  be 
known  as  to  our  movements,  the  reason  for  them,  and 
the  ultimate  object  of  our  long  passage,  with  its  un- 
precedented haste,  was  locked  up  in  one  man's  mind, 
and  that  man  a  graven  image  for  secretiveness. 

Such  was  the  expeditiousness  of  our  passage  that 
seven  weeks  after  gamming  the  nameless  whaler  on 
the  "  ofT-shore  "  ground,  we  sighted  one  of  the  Vol- 
cano group  of  islands  which  lie  near  the  Bonins  in  the 
great  eddy  of  the  Kuro  Siwo  or  Japanese  current,  and 
form  one  of  the  landmarks  of  what  was  once  the 

107 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

busiest  sperm  whaling-ground  on  the  globe.  The 
shape  of  the  island,  more  like  the  comb  of  a  cock  than 
anything  else,  was  familiar  to  many  of  us,  and  gave  us 
for  the  first  time  for  months  a  clear  idea  of  our  position. 
So  we  were  on  the  Japan  ground.  It  was  a  relief  to 
know  that  much,  certainly ;  but  why — why  had  we,  con- 
trary to  all  whaling  precedent,  made  a  passage  of  sev- 
eral thousand  miles  in  such  haste?  No  answer.  But 
having  arrived,  our  usual  whaling  tactics  were  imme- 
diately resumed.  With  a  difference.  Instead  of  being 
kept  hard  at  work  during  all  the  hours  of  daylight 
scrubbing,  polishing,  cleaning,  until  the  old  oil-barrel 
of  a  ship  was  as  spick  and  span  as  a  man-o'-war,  the 
word  was  passed  that  the  watch  on  deck  were  to  keep 
a  look-out  for  whale — every  man  of  them  except  him 
at  the  wheel.  And  the  watchers  in  the  crows'-nest 
were  provided  each  with  a  pair  of  binoculars — a  thing 
unheard  of  before.  So  the  ship  became  a  veritable 
argus.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  nothing,  not  even  a  frond 
of  seaweed,  or  a  wandering  sea-bird,  ever  passed  within 
range  of  sight  without  being  seen  and  noted.  After  a 
few  days  of  this  most  keen  outlook  came  another  sur- 
prise in  the  shape  of  a  speech  from  the  old  man. 

Calling  all  hands  aft,  he  faced  us  for  a  minute  in 
silence,  while  every  heart  beat  a  trifle  quicker  as  if  we 
were  on  the  threshold  of  a  mystery  deeper  than  any 
that  had  yet  worried  us.  He  spoke  quietly,  dispas- 
sionately, yet  with  that  blue  patch  in  the  middle  of 
each  yellow  cheek  that  was  to  us  the  symbol  of  his 
most  intense  excitement.  "  I've  kem  up  hyar  aefter 
one  whale,  'n  ef  I-git  him  th'  v'yge  is  over.    He's  big, 

1 08 


The  Debt  of  the  Whale 

bigger'n  enny  man  here's  ever  seen,  I  guess,  an'  he's 
spotted  with  white  on  brown  like  a  pieball  horse.  Yew 
kaint  mistake  him.  I'll  give  five  hundred  dollars  t'  th' 
man  that  raises  him  first,  'n  I'll  divide  five  thousand 
among  ye  'cordin  t'  grade  ef  I  kill  him.  An'  when 
we've  cut  him  in  we'll  up-stick  fr  Noo  Bedford. 
Naow,  ef  this  is  enny  indoocement  t'  ye,  keep  y'r 
eyes  skinned  by  day  and  night.  Moreover,  I  warn 
ye  thet  this  ship  doan't  see  civilization  agen  until 
I  git  wut  I'm  after,  'r  I  go  under.  Thet'U  do,  all 
haends." 

In  any  other  ship  this  harangue  would  have  been 
succeeded  by  a  buzz  of  chat  as  soon  as  the  fellows  got 
forward,  but  here  not  a  word  was  spoken.  Thence- 
forward, though  it  was  evident  that  not  a  thought 
could  be  spared,  not  a  look  wasted  from  scanning  the 
wide  circle  of  blue  around,  by  night  and  by  day  the 
watch  never  slackened,  and  men  would  hardly  sleep 
for  eagerness  to  be  the  first  to  claim  the  prize.  Yet, 
as  so  often  happens,  it  fell  to  one  who  had  the  least 
opportunity  of  obtaining  it,  the  mulatto  steward  whose 
duties  kept  him  below  most  of  the  time.  About  ten 
days  after  the  skipper's  offer  the  steward  crept  on 
deck  one  evening  about  eight  bells,  his  long  day's 
work  just  over,  and  slouching  forward  into  the  waist 
leaned  over  the  side  and  began  to  fill  his  pipe.  It  was 
a  heavenly  evening,  hardly  a  breath  of  air  breaking  the 
sleckiness  of  the  sea-surface,  the  slightest  perceptible 
swell  giving  us  a  gentle  undulatory  motion,  and  over- 
head the  full  moon  hung  in  the  cloudless  dome  like 
an  immense  globe  glowing  with  electric  light.     The 

109 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

steward  had  finished  filUng  his  pipe,  and  was  just  feel- 
ing for  a  match  when  he  stopped  suddenly  and  said 
to  his  nearest  neighbour,  "  OHver,  what  in  thunder's 
thet  right  in  the  moon-glade  ? "  The  whisper  ran 
round  the  ship  as  if  on  a  telephone,  and  in  less  than  a 
minute  all  the  night-glasses  were  on  the  spot.  The 
skipper's  voice  broke  the  silence — hardly  broke  it — 
so  quiet  yet  audible  was  it.  "  'Way  boats.  Th'  first 
man  thet  makes  a  noise,  I'll  cripple  him  f'r  life. 
Stoord,  g'lang  b'low  'n  git  y'r  money ;  ye'U  find  it 
on  my  bunk-shelf." 

Like  a  crew  of  ghosts,  we  sped  to  our  stations, 
hanging  over  side  and  booming  the  boats  off  as  they 
were  lowered  with  the  utmost  caution  lest  there  should 
be  a  rattle  of  a  patent  block  or  a  splash  as  they  took  the 
water.  In  five  minutes  we  were  all  away,  five  boats, 
the  skipper  leading  and  every  man,  except  the  officers 
steering,  wielding  an  Indian  paddle  as  if  his  life  de- 
pended upon  utter  silence.  As  we  sat  facing  forrard 
every  eye  was  strained  for  a  glimpse  of  the  enemy,  but 
at  that  low  level  and  in  the  peculiar  glare  of  a  moon- 
lit tropical  night  we  could  see  nothing.  Moreover,  we 
were  paddling  along  the  glittering  path  cast  upon  the 
sea  by  the  moon,  and  a  few  minutes'  steady  gaze  upon 
that  stretch  of  molten  silver  made  the  eyes  burn  and 
throb,  so  that  it  was  an  intense  relief  to  close  them  for 
a  while.  At  every  dip  of  the  paddles  there  was  an  ad- 
ditional flash  in  the  water,  behind  each  boat  and  far 
beneath  myriads  of  dancing  gleams  disported  them- 
selves, while  in  ever-accumulating  numbers  wide 
bands  of  pale  fire  radiating  from  opaque  bodies  keep- 

IIO 


The  Debt  of  the  Whale 

ing  company  with  us  told  us  of  the  shark  hosts  mus- 
tering for  the  light  wherein  they,  at  any  rate,  were 
likely  to  fall  heirs  to  goodly  spoil. 

Without  a  pause  for  rest,  and  in  the  same  utter  still- 
ness, we  toiled  on  for  at  least  two  hours.  It  was  back- 
breaking  work,  and  but  for  the  splendid  training  we 
were  in  we  could  not  possibly  have  held  out.  Then 
suddenly  from  ahead  came  a  yell  of  wild  laughter,  the 
most  blood-chilling  sound  surely  ever  heard.  Imme- 
diately following  it  we  saw  a  veritable  hill  of  light 
upraise  itself  out  of  the  sea  ahead,  and  realized  that 
at  last  our  quarry  was  brought  to  bay.  "  In  paddles, 
out  oars !  "  yelled  the  officers,  and  as  we  obeyed  we 
were  aware  that  a  terrific  commotion  was  in  progress 
ahead.  The  greenish-glaring  spray  ascended  in  long 
jets,  and  the  dull  boom  of  mighty  blows  reverberated 
over  the  hitherto  quiet  sea.  Pulling  till  our  sinews 
cracked,  we  reached  the  storm-centre,  and,  by  what 
seemed  a  miracle,  actually  succeeded  in  getting  fast  to 
the  whale — every  boat  did  that,  although  it  seemed  to 
many  of  us  a  suicidal  policy  under  the  circumstances. 
Shouts  and  curses  resounded  until  a  voice  was  heard 
that  enforced  silence,  the  far-reaching  tones  of  Captain 
Gushing,  who  was  nearest  to  the  foe,  but  for  all  his 
ability  was  unable  to  do  more  once  he  had  got  fast. 
For  now  the  whale  had  settled  down  into  a  steady 
straightforward  rush  at  the  rate  of  about  fourteen 
knots  an  hour,  the  five  boats  sweeping  along  in  his 
wake  like  meteors  glancing  across  the  deep  darkness 
of  the  night.  The  whale  could  not  be  seen.  Only  at 
long  intervals  did  he  slant  upwards  and,  with  a  roar 

I II 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

like  the  lifting  of  an  overloaded  safety-valve,  disappear 
again. 

So  on  we  went  through  the  warm  quiet  night  with- 
out the  slightest  sign  of  slackening  until  the  gladsome 
light  of  dawn  quickened  on  the  sea-rim,  and  showed 
us  that  we  were  alone — there  was  no  sign  of  the  ship. 
A  gaunt  and  haggard  crew  we  looked,  anxiety  scoring 
deep  furrows  in  our  wan  faces.  And  as  the  sun  sprang 
into  the  sky  we  suddenly  came  to  a  dead  stop.  The 
strain  on  the  line  compelled  us  to  pay  out,  and  thus 
we  hovered  in  a  circle,  bows  awash,  and  awaited  the 
pleasure  of  our  foe.  There  was  a  sudden  upspringing 
of  all  boats,  a  hasty  manoeuvring  to  clear  one  another 
as  far  as  might  be,  and,  before  any  of  us  could  have 
imagined  it  possible,  high  into  our  midst  leaped  the 
spotted  whale,  his  awful  jaws  agape,  and  his  whole 
body  writhing  in  its  evolution.  Straight  for  the  skip- 
per's boat  he  came,  taking  it  diagonally,  and,  with  a 
crash  that  set  all  our  teeth  on  edge,  she  disappeared. 
A  mist  arose  before  our  sight,  the  spray  of  the  con- 
flict filling  the  air,  but,  fired  beyond  fear  by  the  whole- 
sale tragedy  we  believed  had  taken  place,  we  bent  to 
our  oars  till  they  cracked,  thirsting  for  that  monster's 
blood.  As  we  came  bounding  to  the  spot  he  disap- 
peared, and,  to  our  unspeakable  amazement  (though 
we  had  no  time  to  show  it)  all  the  destroyed  boat's 
crew  reappeared.  But  if  Captain  Gushing  had  looked 
dangerous  before,  his  appearance  now  was  that  of  a 
demoniac.  His  cap  was  gone,  so  that  the  yellow  dome 
of  his  head  loomed  strangely  in  the  early  morning 
light,  his  clothing  hung  from  him  in  ribbons,  and  his 

112 


The  Debt  of  the  Whale 

right  arm  dangled  as  if  only  held  by  a  few  sinews.  He 
had  come  right  out  of  the  whale's  jaws.  All  the  others 
were  scathless. 

To  all  offers  of  help  he  turned  a  savage  scowl,  and 
seizing  a  bomb-gun  in  his  uninjured  hand  he  jammed 
himself  in  the  boat's  bows,  his  voice,  unaltered  save  for 
being  a  little  higher  in  pitch,  being  heard  and  obeyed 
among  the  other  boats  on  the  instant.  The  whale  re- 
turned. At  the  captain's  orders  all  cut  their  lines,  and 
the  real  fight  began.  Truly  Captain  Gushing  was  fit 
to  be  a  leader  of  men,  for  his  eyes  missed  nothing.  At 
his  orders  all  four  boats  advanced,  retreated,  backed, 
circled,  stopped  dead.  He  seemed  able  to  penetrate 
the  misleading  medium  of  the  water,  where  a  whale  at 
twenty  fathoms'  depth  looks  like  a  salmon,  and  what- 
ever move  the  monster  made,  his  counter-move  baffled 
the  savage  intent.  Yet  all  the  time  we  were  strictly 
on  the  defensive.  Our  long  night's  tow,  want  of  food 
and  drink,  and  since  daylight  the  tremendous  strain 
upon  our  nerves,  was  surely  telling  against  us,  and  our 
adversary  was  apparently  tireless.  Not  only  so,  but  his 
ingenuity  never  flagged.  Ruse  after  ruse  was  tried  by 
him,  but  no  two  were  alike.  And  without  a  doubt  our 
hopes  of  coming  alive  out  of  this  battle  were  growing 
fainter  and  fainter  every  moment. 

Things  were  in  this  gloomy  stage  when,  with  a 
most  appalling  roar,  the  whale  suddenly  broke  water 
on  his  back,  and  launched  himself  at  the  captain's  boat. 
The  wide  sea  boiled  like  a  pot  as  he  came,  but,  to  our 
horror,  the  boat  lay  still,  as  if  anchored  to  the  spot. 
The  crash  came,  and  amidst  its  uproar  we  heard  the 

"3 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

sharp  report  of  a  gun.  Like  a  great  whirlpool  the 
waters  foamed  and  rose,  nothing  being  distinguishable 
in  the  midst  of  the  vortex  until  it  gradually  subsided, 
and  we  saw  the  fragments  of  the  boat  idly  tossing 
upon  the  crimson  foam.  Hastening  to  the  rescue,  we 
found  six  men  still  alive,  but  all  sadly  hurt.  The  sev- 
enth was  gone.  At  last  Captain  Gushing  had  paid  in 
full  the  debt  that  had  been  owing.  We  were  now  com- 
pletely overborne  with  fatigue  as  well  as  overloaded 
with  helpless  men — utterly  unfit  to  compete  any  fur- 
ther with  so  fearful  a  foe.  While  we  lay  thus  help- 
lessly awaiting  what  all  felt  must  be  the  end,  the 
whale  again  broke  water  about  twenty  yards  away. 
Up,  up,  up  into  the  air  he  rose,  effortless,  majestically ; 
and  as  he  soared  aloft  every  heart  stood  still  to  see 
the  body  of  our  late  commander  hanging  limply  at 
the  angle  of  that  yawning  mouth.  The  yellow  visage 
was  towards  us,  the  same  savage  grin  frozen  upon  it, 
but  the  will  against  which  everything  had  shivered 
was  now  but  the  will  of  the  drift-weed  round  about; 
that  clammy  piece  of  clay  was  tenantless. 

Down  came  the  gigantic  form,  tearing  up  the  sea 
into  foam  and  disappeared  from  our  sight,  to  be  seen 
no  more.  Long  and  wearily  we  waited,  hungry  and 
thirsty,  and  some  in  agony  from  their  injuries,  until 
twenty-four  hours  later  the  Beluga  found  us,  and  all 
were  safely  taken  on  board.  Strangely  transformed 
the  old  ship  appeared.  At  first  we  went  about  as  we 
had  been  wont,  not  daring  to  exchange  thoughts  with 
one  another.  But  gradually  the  blessed  truth  soaked 
in.    We  were  freed  from  a  tyranny  more  dire  than  any 

114 


The  Debt  of  the  Whale 

of  us  had  realized — a  tyranny  over  mind  as  well  as 
body.  Officers  and  men  rejoiced  together,  for  all  had 
suffered.  And  it  was  at  once  decided  to  return  home 
in  leisurely  fashion,  calling  at  well-known  ports  on  the 
way,  and  endeavouring  to  make  up  by  a  little  joy  of 
life  for  past  miseries. 

What  the  true  inwardness  of  Captain  Cushing's 
desire  of  revenge  on  the  spotted  whale  was  we  never 
rightly  knew,  but  many  rumours  were  current  among 
ships  that  we  gammed  that  he  had,  with  his  own  hand 
many  years  before,  killed  the  whale  of  a  small  pod,  or 
company  of  whales,  of  which  the  spotted  whale  was  the 
leader,  and  that  they  had  met  on  several  occasions 
afterwards,  their  meeting  always  being  attended  by 
some  grave  disaster  to  Cushing's  ship  and  crew.  This 
had  wrought  upon  his  mind  until  it  had  become  a 
mania,  and  he  was  willing  to  risk  all  for  the  chance 
of  slaying  his  redoubtable  foe.  But  we  had  no  doubt 
that  the  whale  was  merely  the  instrument  chosen  by 
Providence  for  meting  out  to  him  a  death  he  richly  de- 
served for  his  many  crimes. 


115 


THE   SKIPPER'S  WIFE 

Stories  of  the  Sea  have  in  my  hunlble  opinion 
been  quite  unfairly  dealt  with  by  the  majority  of  their 
narrators.  Told  for  the  benefit  of  non-seafaring  folk 
by  writers,  who,  however  great  their  literary  gifts,  have 
had  merely  a  nodding  acquaintance  with  the  everyday 
doings  on  board  ship,  they  generally  lack  proportion,  ^ 
and  fail  to  convey  to  shore  folk  an  intimate  sense  of 
the  sea-atmosphere.  Especially  has  this  been  so  with 
books  for  young  people,  as  was  no  doubt  to  be  ex- 
pected. So  much  has  this  been  the  case  that  sailors 
generally  despise  sea-stories,  finding  them  utterly  un- 
like anything  they  have  ever  experienced  themselves. 
Of  late  years  there  have  been  some  notable  exceptions 
among  sea  story  writers,  most  of  them  happily  still 
living  and  doing  splendid  service.  One  cunning  hand 
is  still,  that  of  James  Runciman,  whose  yams  are  salt 
as  the  ocean,  and  have  most  truly  held  the  mirror  up 
to  Nature  in  a  manner  unexcelled  by  any  other  marine 
writer  living  or  dead.  Freedom  from  exaggeration, 
clarity  of  expression,  and  sympathetic  insight  into  sea- 
life  were  his  main  features,  and  no  one  hated  more 
than  he  the  utterly  impossible  beings  and  doings  com- 
mon to  the  bulk  of  sea-fiction. 

W'^hether  it  be  from  lack  of  imaginative  power  or 
9  117 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

an  unfertile  inventiveness  I  cannot  say,  but  it  has  al- 
ways appeared  to  me  as  if  one  need  never  travel  out- 
side the  actual  facts  of  his  experience,  however  hum- 
drum it  may  appear  to  the  casual  observer,  to  find 
matters  sufficiently  interesting  to  hold  any  intelligent 
reader  enthralled,  always  providing  that  matter  be  well 
presented.  And  in  that  belief  I  venture  to  tell  a  plain 
tale  here,  into  which  no  fiction  enters  except  proper 
names. 

Drifting  about  the  world,  as  the  great  fucus  wan- 
ders from  shore  to  shore,  having  once  been  dislodged 
from  its  parent  rock,  I  one  day  found  myself  ashore  at 
Quilimane,  desperately  anxious  to  get  a  berth  in  any 
capacity  on  board  ship  for  the  sole  purpose  of  getting 
away.  My  prospects  were  not  very  rosy,  for  the  only 
vessels  in  the  hateful  place  were  two  or  three  crazy 
country  craft  with  Arab  crews,  tliat  looked  exceedingly 
like  slavers  to  me.  At  last,  to  my  intense  relief,  a 
smart  looking  barquentine  entered  the  port  and  an- 
chored. I  was,  as  usual,  lounging  about  the  beach  (it 
seemed  the  healthiest  place  I  could  find)  and  my  long- 
ing eyes  followed  every  move  of  the  crew  as  they 
busied  themselves  in  getting  the  boat  out.  When  the 
captain  stepped  ashore  I  was  waiting  to  meet  him,  and 
the  first  words  he  heard  were — 

"  Do  you  want  a  hand,  cap'n  ?  " 

Taking  keen  stock  of  me,  he  said,  "  What  sort  of  a 
berth  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,"  I  replied,  "  I've  got  a  second-mate's 
ticket,  but  I'll  go  as  boy  for  the  chance  of -getting 
away  from  here,  if  necessary." 

ii8 


The  Skipper's  Wife 

"  I  want  a  cook-and-steward,"  he  murmured  dubi- 
ously, "  and  as  I've  got  my  wife  aboard  the  cooking's 
rather  important." 

"  I'm  your  man,  sir,"  I  cried,  "  if  I  can't  cook  you 
can  dump  me  overboard.  I  never  shipped  as  cook  yet, 
but  I've  had  to  teach  a  good  few  cooks  how  to  boil 
salt  water  without  burning  it." 

He  smiled  pleasantly  at  this,  and  said,  "  I  must  say 
I  like  your  looks  and — well  there,  jump  into  the  boat. 
I'll  be  back  directly." 

Sure  enough,  in  a  couple  of  hours  I  was  busy  in  her 
cosy  galley,  while  the  chaps  were  rattling  the  windlass 
round  with  a  will,  anxious  enough  to  get  clear  of  that 
sweltering  coast.  From  the  first  my  relations  with  all 
hands  were  of  the  pleasantest  kind.  They  had  suffered 
many  things  at  the  hands  of  several  so-called  cooks 
during  the  eighteen  months  they  had  been  away  from 
home,  each  dirty  destroyer  of  provisions  being  worse 
than  his  predecessor.  But  especially  were  my  eflforts 
appreciated  in  the  cabin.  The  skipper  had  with  him 
his  wife  and  two  little  girls,  aged  four  and  five  re- 
spectively, who  made  that  little  corner  of  the  ship 
seem  to  a  homeless,  friendless  wanderer  like  myself  a 
small  heaven.  Mrs.  Brunton  was  a  sweet-faced  grey- 
eyed  woman  of  about  thirty,  with  a  quiet  tenderness  of 
manner  and  speech  that  made  a  peaceful  atmosphere 
about  her  like  that  of  a  summer  Sunday  evening  in 
some  tiny  English  village.  Her  husband  was  a  grand 
specimen  of  a  British  seaman,  stalwart  and  fair-haired, 
with  a  great  sweeping  beard  and  bright  blue  eyes  that 
always  had  a  lurking  smile  in  their  depths.    The  pair 

119 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

appeared  to  have  but  one  mind.  Their  chief  joy 
seemed  to  be  in  the  silent  watching  of  their  children's 
gambols,  as,  like  two  young  lambs,  they  galloped 
round  the  decks  or  wriggled  about  the  cramped  fittings 
of  the  small  saloon.  The  charm  of  that  happy  home- 
circle  was  over  all  hands.  You  might  say  that  the 
ship  worked  herself,  there  was  so  little  sign  of  the 
usual  machinery  of  sea-life. 

So  the  days  slipped  away  as  we  crept  down  towards 
the  Cape,  bound  round  to  Barbadoes,  of  all  places  in 
the  world.  Then  in  the  ordinary  course  of  events  the 
weather  got  gradually  worse,  until  one  night  it  culmi- 
nated in  a  following  gale  of  hurricane  fierceness,  thun- 
dering down  out  of  an  ebony  sky  that  almost  rested 
on  the  mastheads.  By-and-by  the  swart  dungeon 
about  us  became  shot  with  glowing  filaments  that 
quivered  on  the  sight  like  pain-racked  nerves,  and  the 
bass  of  the  storm  fell  two  octaves.  Sail  had  been  re- 
duced to  the  fore  lower  topsail  and  the  fore-topmast 
staysail,  which  had  the  sheet  hauled  fiat  aft  in  case  of 
her  broaching-to.  Even  under  those  tiny  rags  she  flew 
before  the  hungering  blast  like  a  hare  when  the  hounds 
are  only  her  own  length  behind.  The  black  masses  of 
water  gradually  rose  higher  alongside  as  they  bel- 
lowed past  until  their  terrible  heads  peered  inboard  as 
if  seeking  the  weakest  spot.  They  began  to  break  over 
all,  easily  at  first,  but  presently  with  a  sickening  crash 
that  made  itself  felt  in  one's  very  bowels.  At  last  two 
menacing  giants  rose  at  once  on  either  side,  curving 
their  huge  heads  until  they  overhung  the  waist.  Thus, 
for  an  appreciable  fraction  of  time,  they  stood,  then  fell 

120 


Gently  she  covered  their  ruddy  faces. 


The  Skipper's  Wife 

^-on  the  main-hatch.  It  cracked — sagged  downward 
— and  every  man  on  deck  knew  that  the  foot-thick 
greenheart  fore-and-after  was  broken,  and  that  another 
sea  Hke  that  would  sink  us  Uke  a  saucer.  Hitherto 
the  skipper  had  been  standing  near  the  cuddy  scuttle, 
in  which  his  wife  crouched,  her  eyes  dim  with  watch- 
ing her  husband.  Now  he  stooped  and  whispered 
three  words  in  her  ear.  With  one  more  glance  up  into 
his  face  she  crept  down  into  their  berth,  and  over  to 
where  the  two  little  ones  were  sleeping  soundly. 
Gently,  but  with  an  untrembling  hand,  she  covered 
their  ruddy  faces  with  a  folded  mosquito  net  and 
turned  out  the  light.  Then  she  swiftly  returned  to  her 
self-chosen  post  in  the  scuttle,  just  reaching  up  a  hand 
to  touch  her  husband's  arm,  and  let  him  know  that 
she  was  near.  The  quiver  that  responded  was  answer 
enough.  He  was  looking  astern,  and  all  his  soul  was 
in  his  eyes.  For  there  was  a  streak  of  kindly  light,  a 
line  of  hope  on  the  murky  heaven.  It  broadened  to  a 
rift,  the  blue  shone  through,  and  stooping  he  lifted  his 
wife's  head  above  the  hatch,  turning  her  face  so  that 
she  too  might  see  and  rejoice.  She  lifted  her  face,  with 
streaming  eyes,  to  his  for  a  kiss,  then  fled  below,  turned 
up  the  light  again,  and  uncovered  the  children's  faces. 
Five  minutes  later  she  heard  his  step  coming  down, 
and  devoured  him  with  her  eyes  as  he  walked  to  the 
barometer,  peered  into  it  and  muttered  "  thank  God." 
A  fortnight  later  I  was  prowling  up  and  down  the 
cabin  outside  their  closed  state-room  door,  my  fingers 
twitching  with  nervousness,  and  a  lump  continually 
rising  in  my  throat  that  threatened  to  choke  me;  for 

121 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

within  that  tiny  space,  the  captain,  all  unaided  except 
by  his  great  love  and  quiet  common  sense,  was  elbow- 
ing a  grim  shadow  that  seemed  to  envy  him  his  treas- 
ure. Now  and  then  a  faint  moan  curdled  round  my 
heart,  making  it  ache  as  if  with  cold.  Beyond  that  there 
was  no  sign  from  within,  and  the  suspense  fretted  me 
till  I  felt  like  a  bundle  of  bare  nerves.  Overhead  I 
could  hear  the  barefooted  step  of  the  mate,  as  he  wan- 
dered with  uncertain  gait  about  the  lee  side  of  the  poop 
under  the  full  glow  of  the  passionless  moon.  At  last, 
when  I  felt  as  worn  as  if  I  had  been  swimming  for 
hours,  there  came  a  thin,  gurgling  little  wail — a  new 
voice  that  sent  a  thrill  through  the  curves  of  my  brain 
with  a  sharp  pang.  And  then  I  felt  the  hot  tears  run- 
ning down  my  face — why,  I  did  not  know.  A  minute 
later  the  door  swung  open,  and  the  skipper  said,  in  a 
thick,  strange  tone,  "  It's  all  right,  Peter ;  I've  a  son. 
And  she's  grand,  my  boy,  she's  grand."  I  mumbled 
out  something;  I  meant  well,  I'm  sure,  but  no  one 
could  have  understood  me.  He  knew,  and  shook 
hands  with  me  heartily.  And  presently  I  was  nursing 
the  bonny  mite  as  if  I  had  never  done  aught  else — me 
that  never  had  held  a  baby  before.  It  was  good,  too ; 
it  lay  in  my  arms  on  a  pillow,  and  looked  up  at  me 
with  bright,  unwinking  eyes. 

Then  came  three  weeks  of  unalloyed  delight. 
Overhead  the  skies  were  serene — that  deep,  fathomless 
blue,  that  belongs  of  right  to  the  wide,  shoreless  seas 
of  the  tropics,  where  the  constant  winds  blow  unfalter- 
ingly to  a  mellow  harmony  of  love.  On  board,  every 
thought  was  drawn  magnet-wise  to  the  tiny  babe  who 

122 


The  Skipper's  Wife 

had  come  among  us  like  a  messenger  from  another 
sphere,  and  the  glances  cast  at  the  tender  mother  as 
she  sat  under  the  little  awning,  like  a  queen  holding 
her  court,  were  almost  reverential.  Never  a  man  of 
us. will  forget  that  peaceful  time.  Few  words  were 
spoken,  but  none  of  them  were  angry,  for  every  one 
felt  an  influence  at  work  on  him  that,  while  it  almost 
bewildered  him,  made  him  feel  gentle  and  kind.  But 
into  the  midst  of  this  peaceful  time  came  that  envious 
shadow  again.  How  it  happened  no  man  could  tell ; 
what  malign  seed  had  suddenly  germinated,  after  so 
long  lying  dormant,  was  past  all  speculation  of  ours. 
The  skipper  himself  fell  sick.  For  a  few  days  he 
fought  man-fashion  against  a  strange  lassitude  that 
sapped  all  his  great  strength  and  overcame  even  his 
bright  cheery  temper  until  he  became  fretful  as  a 
sickly  babe.  At  last  there  came  a  day  when  he  could 
not  rise  from  his  cot.  With  a  beseeching  look  in  his 
eyes  he  lay,  his  fine  voice  sunk  to  a  whisper  and  his 
sunny  smile  gone.  His  wife  hovered  about  him  con- 
tinually, unsparing  of  herself,  and  almost  forgetting 
the  first  claim  of  the  babe.  The  children,  with  the 
happy  thoughtlessness  of  their  age,  could  not  be  kept 
quiet,  so,  for  the  most  part,  they  played  forward  with 
the  crew,  where  they  were  as  happy  as  the  day  was 
long.  Every  man  did  his  best  to  entertain  them ;  and 
when  sailors  make  pets  of  children,  those  children  are 
favoured  by  fortune.  Meanwhile,  in  the  cabin,  we 
fought  inch  by  inch  with  death  for  our  friend.  But 
our  hands  were  tied  by  ignorance,  for  the  rough  direc- 
tions of  the  book  in  the  medicine  chest  gave  us  no 

123 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

help  in  dealing  with  this  strange  disease.  Gradually 
the  fine  frame  of  the  skipper  dwindled  and  shrank, 
larger  and  more  wistful  grew  his  eyes,  but  after  the 
first  appalling  discovery  of  his  weakness  he  never 
uttered  a  complaining  word.  He  lay  motionless,  un- 
noticing,  except  that  into  the  deep  wells  of  his  eyes 
there  came  an  expression  of  great  content  and  peace 
whenever  his  wife  bent  over  him.  She  scarcely  ever 
spoke,  for  he  had  apparently  lost  all  power  of  compre- 
hension as  well  as  speech,  except  that  which  entered 
his  mind  by  sight.  Thus  he  sank,  as  lulls  the  sea- 
breeze  on  a  tropical  shore  when  twilight  comes.  And 
one  morning  at  four,  as  I  lay  coiled  in  a  fantastic  heap 
upon  one  of  the  settees  near  his  door,  sleeping  lightly 
as  a  watch-dog,  a  long,  low  moan  tugged  at  my  heart- 
strings, and  I  sat  up  shivering  like  one  in  an  ague-fit, 
although  we  were  on  the  Line.  Swiftly  I  stepped  into 
his  room,  where  I  saw  his  wife  with  one  arm  across 
his  breast  and  her  face  beside  his  on  the  pillow.  She 
had  fainted,  and  so  was  mercifully  spared  for  a  little 
while  the  agony  of  that  parting — for  he  was  dead. 

Up  till  that  time  every  device  that  seamanship 
could  suggest  had  been  put  into  practice  to  hurry  the 
ship  on,  so  that  she  was  a  perfect  pyramid  of  canvas 
rigged  wherever  it  would  catch  a  wasting  air.  But  all 
was  of  little  use,  for  the  wind  had  fallen  lighter  and 
lighter  each  day  until,  at  the  time  of  the  skipper's 
passing,  it  was  a  stark  calm.  Then,  as  if  some  invisible 
restraint  had  been  suddenly  removed,  up  sprang  the 
wind,  strong  and  steady,  necessitating  the  instant  re- 
moval of  all  those  fragile  adjuncts  to  her  speed  that 

124 


The  Skipper's  Wife 

had  been  rigged  everywhere  possible  aloft.  So  that 
no  one  had  at  first  any  leisure  to  brood  over  our  great 
loss  but  myself,  and  I  could  only  watch  with  almost 
breathless  anxiety  for  the  return  of  that  sorely-tried, 
heroic  woman  to  a  life  from  which  her  chief  joy  had 
been  taken  away.  She  remained  so  long  in  that  death- 
like trance  that  again  and  again  I  was  compelled  to 
reassure  myself,  by  touching  her  arms  and  face,  that 
she  was  still  alive,  and  yet  I  dreaded  her  re-awakening. 
At  last,  with  a  long-drawn  sigh,  she  lifted  her  head, 
looked  steadfastly  for  a  while  at  the  calm  face  of  her 
dead  husband,  then  stooped  and  kissed  him  once. 
Then  she  turned  to  me  as  I  stood  at  the  door,  with  the 
silent  tears  streaming  down  my  face,  and  said,  in  a 
perfectly  steady  voice  (I  can  hear  it  now),  "  Are  my 
children  well  ?  "  "  Yes,  ma'am,"  I  answered,  "  they 
are  all  asleep."  "  Thank  you,"  she  murmured ;  "  I 
will  go  and  lie  down  with  them  a  little  while.  I  feel 
so  tired.  No  "  (seeing  I  was  about  to  offer),  "  I  want 
nothing  just  now  but  rest."  So  she  turned  into  their 
little  cabin  and  shut  the  door.  I  went  on  deck  and 
waited  until  the  mate  (now  skipper)  was  free,  and  then 
told  him  how  she  was.  He  immediately  made  prepara- 
tions for  the  burial,  for  we  were  still  a  week's  sail 
from  port.  In  an  hour  all  was  ready,  and  silently  we 
awaited  the  re-appearance  of  the  chief  mourner.  She 
came  out  at  breakfast-time,  looking  like  a  woman 
of  marble.  Quietly  thanking  the  new  skipper  for  what 
he  had  done,  she  resumed  her  motherly  duties,  say- 
ing no  word  and  showing  no  sign  of  the  ordeal  she  was 
enduring. 

125 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

All  through  the  last  solemn  scene,  except  for  a 
convulsive  shudder  as  the  sullen  plunge  alongside 
closed  the  service,  she  preserved  the  same  tearless 
calm,  and  afterwards,  while  she  remained  on  board — 
which  was  only  until  we  arrived  at  Barbadoes — she 
preserved  the  same  automaton-like  demeanour.  The 
mail  steamer  arrived  the  day  after  we  anchored,  and 
we  took  her  on  board  for  the  passage  to  England ;  her 
bitter  tragedy  moving  most  of  the  passengers  to  tears 
as  the  history  of  it  spread  like  wildfire  among  them. 
And  as  the  Medway  steamed  out  of  the  harbour,  we  all 
stood  on  the  poop  of  our  own  vessel,  with  bared  heads, 
in  respectful  farewell  to,  and  deepest  sympathy  for, 
our  late  captain's  wife. 


126 


A   SCIENTIFIC   CRUISE 

Five  and  twenty  minutes,  I  believe,  was  the  ex- 
treme limit  of  time  it  took  me  to  discover  that  my  new 
ship  was  likely  to  provide  me  some  of  the  queerest 
experiences  I  had  yet  met  with  in  all  my  fishing.  But 
after  a  month's  weary  munching  the  bread  of  the  out- 
ward-bounder, and  in  Calcutta  too,  I  was  so  hungry 
for  a  berth  that  I  would  have  shipped  as  mess-room 
steward  in  a  Geordie  weekly  boat,  and  undertaken  to 
live  on  the  yield  of  the  dog-basket  from  the  engineers' 
table,  if  nothing  better  had  offered.  So  when  Romin 
Dass,  a  sircar  that  I  was  very  chummy  with,  hailed 
me  one  morning  at  the  corner  of  the  Radha  Bazaar, 
with  a  quotation  from  Shakespeare  to  point  his  in- 
formation that  he  had  heard  of  a  second-mate's  berth 
for  me  on  board  the  Ranee,  a  fine  iron  ship  moored  oflf 
Prinseps  Ghat,  I  was  so  glad  that  I  promised  him  the 
first  five  dibs  I  could  lay  hands  on.  Trembling  with 
eagerness,  I  hurried  down  to  the  ghat  and  wheedled 
a  dinghy-wallah  into  putting  me  on  board.  The  mate, 
a  weary  looking  man,  about  my  own  age,  met  me  at 
the  foot  of  the  gangway  ladder  with  that  suspicious 
air  common  to  all  mates  of  ships  abroad,  especially 
when  they  see  an  eager  looking  stranger  with  a  nautical 
appearance  come  aboard  uninvited.    In  a  diffident  un- 

127 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

certain  way,  born  of  a  futile  attempt,  to  conceal  my 
anxiety  and  look  dignified,  I  inquired  for  Captain 
Leverrier. 

"  He  isn't  aboard,"  snarled  the  mate,  "  an'  not 
likely  to  be  to-night.  What  might  your  business 
be?" 

"  Well,  you  see — the  fact  is — I  thought — that  is,"  I 
blundered,  getting  red  in  the  face  as  I  saw  a  sarcastic 
grin  curdling  the  mate's  face.  "  I — I  thought  you 
wanted  a  second  mate,  an'  I " 

"  Oh,  why  the  devil  didn't  you  say  so,  'thout  gay- 
huppin'  about  it  like  that.  I  begun  ter  think  you  was 
some  beach-comber  tryin'  on  a  new  bluff.  Come  an' 
have  a  drink." 

Greatly  relieved  I  followed  him  into  the  saloon, 
which  was  almost  as  gorgeous  as  a  yacht's,  carpets,  and 
mirrors,  and  velvet  settees,  piano  and  silver-plated 
metal  work  till  you  couldn't  rest.  A  gliding  Hindoo 
came  salaaming  along  with  a  bottle  and  glasses  and 
some  ice  in  a  bowl  at  a  word  from  the  mate,  and 
solemnly,  as  if  pouring  a  libation,  we  partook  of  re- 
freshment. Then,  offering  me  a  Trichie,  the  mate 
began  to  cross-examine  me.  But  by  this  time  I  had  got 
back  my  self-possession,  and  I  soon  satisfied  him  that 
I  shouldn't  make  half  a  bad  shipmate.  I  happened  to 
have  sailed  with  an  old  skipper  of  his,  I  knew  two  or 
three  fellows  that  he  did,  or  at  least  I  thought  I  knew 
them,  and  before  half  an  hour  had  passed  we  were  on 
quite  confidential  terms.  No,  not  quite ;  for  two  or 
three  times  I  noticed  that  he  checked  himself,  just 
when  he  was  on  the  point  of  telling  me  something, 

128 


A  Scientific  Cruise 

although  he  let  drop  a  few  hints  that  were  totally  un- 
intelligible to  me.    At  last  he  said — 

"  You  might  as  well  stay  to  supper  an'  keep  me 
company,  unless  you've  got  to  get  back  anywhere." 

"  Anywhere's  just  the  right  word,  Mr.  Martin,"  I 
broke  in ;  "  anywhere  but  ashore  again  in  this  God- 
forsaken place.  If  you'd  been  ashore  here  for  six 
weeks,  looking  for  a  pierhead  jump  as  I  have,  you'd 
think  it  was  heaven  to  get  aboard  a  ship  again.  It'd 
be  a  mighty  important  engagement  that  'ud  take  you 
up  town  again." 

•*  All  right,  my  boy.  Hullo,  what  do  you  want  ?  " 
to  the  suppliant  steward,  who  stood  in  a  devotional 
attitude  awaiting  permission  to  speak. 

"  Dinghy-wallah,  sab,  waitin'  for  speaky  gentyman, 
sab." 

I  went  cold  all  over.  That  infernal  coolie  was  after 
me  for  his  fare,  and  I  hadn't  a  pice.  I'd  forgotten  all 
about  him.  I  did  the  only  thing  possible,  owned  up 
to  the  mate  that  I  had  a  southerly  wind  in  my  pockets, 
and  he  came  to  the  rescue  at  once,  paying  the  dinghy- 
wallah  a  quarter  of  what  he  asked  (two  rupees),  and 
starting  him  off.  Then  we  sat  down  to  a  sumptuous 
supper,  such  as  I  had  not  tasted  for  many  months,  for 
I  came  out  before  the  mast,  and  the  grub  in  the 
Sailors  Home  (where  I  had  been  staying)  was  pretty 
bad.  Over  the  pleasant  meal  Mr,  Martin  thawed  out 
completely,  and  at  last,  in  a  burst  of  confidence,  he 
said — 

"  Our  ole  man's  scientific,  Mr.  Roper." 

As  he  looked  at  me  like  a  man  who  has  just  di- 
129 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

vulged  some  tremendous  secret,  I  was  more  than  a 
little  puzzled  what  to  say  in  reply,  so  I  looked  deeply 
interested,  and  murmured,  "  Indeed." 

"  Indeed,  yes,"  growled  the  mate ;  "  but  I'll  bet  you 
a  month's  wages  you  won't  say  '  indeed  '  like  that  when 
we've  ben  to  sea  a  few  days.  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is, 
I've  been  with  some  rum  pups  of  skippers  in  my  time, 
but  this  one  scoops  the  pot.  He's  a  good  enough 
sailor  man,  too.  But  as  fer  his  condemn  science — 
well,  he  thinks  he's  the  whole  Royle  Serciety  an'  Trin- 
ity House  biled  down  into  one,  an'  I'm  damfee  knows 
enough  to  come  in  when  it  rains.  He's  just  worryin 
me  bald-headed,  that's  what  he  is.  Why,  if  it  wasn't 
fer  the  good  hash  and  bein'  able  to  do  pretty  much  as 
I  mind  to  with  the  ship,  I'd  a  ben  a  jibbin  mainyac 
'fore  now,  I'm  dead  shore  o'  that.  Looky  here,"  and 
he  sprang  up  and  flung  a  state-room  door  wide  open, 
"  djever  see  anythin'  like  that  outen  a  mewseeum?  " 

I  stared  in  utter  amazement  at  a  most  extraordi- 
nary collection  of  queer  looking  instruments,  models, 
retorts,  crucibles,  and  specimen  glasses,  turning  round 
after  completing  my  scrutiny,  and  gazing  into  the 
mate's  face  without  speaking. 

He  was  peering  at  me  curiously,  and  presently  said, 
interrogatively,  "  Well  ?  " 

Seeing  that  I  was  expected  to  make  some  sort  of  a 
reply,  I  said,  with  a  cheerful  air — 

"  'Looks  as  if  the  skipper  was  no  end  of  a  sci- 
entific pot,  I  must  confess;  but,  after  all,  Mr.  Martin, 
it's  a  harmless  fad  enough,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Harmless !    Well,  of  all  the Good  heavens, 

130 


A  Scientific  Cruise 

man,  you  hain't  the  least  idea — but,  there,  what's  the 
use  er  talkin'.  Better  letcher  wait  'n  see  fer  yerself. 
Come  on  up  onter  the  poop  'n  git  a  whiflf  er  fresh  Cal- 
cutta mixtcher,  dreadful  refreshin',  ain't  it  ?  " 

A  long  confab  succeeded  to  the  accompaniment  of 
many  cigars  and  sundry  pegs,  but  not  another  word 
about  the  skipper  and  his  hobbies  did  the  mate  let 
slip.  No ;  we  discussed,  as  housewives  are  said  to  do 
when  they  meet,  the  shortcomings  of  those  over  whom 
we  were  put  in  authority,  compared  notes  as  to  the 
merits  and  demerits  of  skippers  we  had  served  under, 
and  generally  sampled  the  gamut  of  seafaring  caus- 
eries,  until,  with  my  head  buzzing  like  a  mosquito  in  a 
bottle,  I  gave  the  mate  good-night,  and  retired  to  my 
bunk  in  an  enviable  state  of  satisfaction  at  my  good 
fortune.  Next  morning  I  was  up  at  coffee-time,  and 
while  sitting  on  the  after-hatch  coamings  enjoying  the 
enlivening  drink  and  chatting  with  the  mate,  a  most 
unearthly  howl  fairly  made  my  whiskers  bristle.  I 
looked  at  Mr.  Martin,  whose  face  wore  a  sarcastic  grin, 
but  never  a  word  spake  he.  Another  nerve-tearing 
yell  resounded,  starting  me  to  my  feet,  while  I  ex- 
claimed— 

"  Whatever  is  it,  Mr.  Martin  ?  I've  never  heard 
such  a  devilish  noise  in  my  life." 

"  Oh,  it's  only  some  o'  the  ole  man's  harmless  fads 
he's  a  exercisin'.  You'll  git  used  ter  them  chunes 
presently." 

He  was  going  to  say  something  else,  but  just  then 
the  steward  emerged  from  the  saloon — that  is  to  say, 
he  shot  out  as  if  he  had  been  fired  from  a  balista. 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

When  I  saw  him  a  few  minutes  before  he  was  a  suave 
oHve-complexioned  Hindoo,  cat-Hke  in  his  neatness, 
and  snowy  in  his  muslin  rig.  Now  he  was  a  ghastly 
apparition,  with  streaming  scalp-lock  and  glaring  eye- 
balls, his  face  a  cabbage-water  green,  and  his  lank 
body  as  bare  as  a  newly-scalded  pig.  Apparently  in- 
capable of  flight,  he  crouched  where  he  fell,  salaaming 
with  trembling  hands,  and  chattering  almost  monkey- 
like. While  the  mate  and  I  stood  silently  regarding 
him,  and  indignation  at  the  poor  wretch's  plight  was 
rapidly  ousting  my  alarm  at  the  manner  of  his  appear- 
ance, a  mild  and  benevolent  looking  man  of  middle- 
age  dressed  in  pyjamas  appeared  at  the  saloon  door. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Martin,"  said  the  skipper,  for 
it  was  himself,  "  did  you  see  where  that  heathen 
landed?" 

"  Oh  yes,  sir,"  drawled  the  mate,  "  'eer  'e  is,  what's 
left  ov  'im." 

"  Ah,"  replied  the  skipper,  with  a  placid  smile, 
"  he's  a  bit  startled  I  see.  He  trod  on  the  plate  of  my 
new  battery,  and  got  a  slight  shock,  I  think.  But 
Where's  his  close  ?  " 

"  The  Lord  only  knows,"  piously  ejaculated  the 
mate.  "  Looks  ter  me  'sif  he'd  ben  shot  clean  out  ov 
'em,  puggree  an'  all." 

By  this  time  the  luckless  steward,  finding,  I  sup- 
pose, that  he  had  not  reached  Jehannum  yet,  began  to 
pull  himself  together,  and,  doubtless  ashamed  of  his 
being  all  face  in  the  presence  of  the  all-powerful  sahibs, 
writhed  his  way  worm-like  towards  the  other  door 
of  the  saloon,  and  disappeared  within,  the  skipper  re- 

132 


A  Scientific  Cruise 

garding  him  meanwhile  with  gentle  interest  as  if  he 
were  a  crawling  babe.  Then  turning  his  attention  to 
me,  the  old  man  courteously  inquired  my  business,  and 
finding  that  I  suited  him,  engaged  me  there  and  then 
as  second  mate. 

During  the  short  stay  we  made  in  port  after  my 
joining,  nothing  further  occurred  to  change  the 
opinion  I  had  already  formed  that  I  was  in  a  very  com- 
fortable ship.  The  fellows  forward  seemed  fairly  well 
contented  and  willing.  The  food  both  fore  and  aft  was 
wonderfully  good,  and  so  was  the  cooking,  for  a  mar- 
vel. But  that  was  because  we  had  a  Madrassee  cook 
who  had  served  an  arduous  apprenticeship  in  P.  and 
O.  boats,  from  which  excellent  service  he  had  been 
driven  by  some  amiable  inability  to  comprehend  the 
laws  of  meum  and  tuum.  Here  there  was  no  chance 
for  him  to  steal,  and  every  inducement  for  him  to  earn 
a  good  name  by  pleasing  his  many  masters.  The  re- 
sult was  singularly  happy  for  all  of  us.  The  foremast 
hands  were  fairly  divided  into  Britons  and  Scandi- 
navians, all  good  seamen  and  quiet,  well-behaved  men. 
One  thing,  however,  was  noticeable,  they  all  seemed 
nervously  anxious  to  avoid  the  after  part  of  the  ship 
as  much  as  possible.  All  seamen  before  the  mast  have 
an  inbred  sense  of  reverence  for  the  quarter-deck, 
walking  delicately  thereon,  and  studiously  keeping  to 
the  lee-side,  unless  compelled  by  duty  to  go  to  wind- 
ward. But  in  the  Ranee,  whenever  a  man  came  aft 
for  any  purpose  whatever,  his  movements  were  much 
like  those  of  a  man  visiting  a  menagerie  for  the  first 
time  alone,  and  morbidly  suspicious  that  some  of  the 

"  133 


Deep-Sea  Plunderlngs 

cage  doors  were  unfastened.  This  behaviour  was 
highly  amusing  to  me,  for  I  had  never  seen  anything 
Hke  it  before,  and  I  couldn't  help  wondering  how  the 
helmsman  would  hang  out  a  trick  at  the  wheel  when 
we  got  to  sea. 

All  preparations  complete,  we  unmoored,  and  in 
tow  of  the  Court  Hey  proceeded  majestically  down  the 
Hooghly,  waking  all  the  echoes  and  scaring  the  num- 
berless pigeons  of  the  King  of  Oude's  palace  with  the 
exultant  strains  of  "  Sally  Brown."  One  of  those 
majestic  creatures,  the  Calcutta  pilots,  paced  the  poop 
in  awful  state,  alone,  the  skipper  being  nowhere  visible. 
Presently,  my  lord  the  pilot,  feeling  slightly  fatigued, 
I  suppose,  threw  himself  into  the  old  man's  favourite 
chair,  an  elaborately  cushioned  affair  of  peculiar  shape 
and  almost  as  long  as  a  sofa.  No  sooner  had  he  done 
so  than,  with  a  most  amazing  movement,  the  whole 
fabric  changed  its  shape,  and  became  one  of  the  most 
bewildering  entanglements  conceivable,  gripping  the 
astounded  pilot  in  so  many  places  at  once  that  he  was 
in  imminent  danger  of  being  throttled.  I  rushed  to  his 
assistance,  and  exerted  all  my  strength  to  set  him  free, 
but  my  energetic  efforts  only  seemed  to  hamper  him 
more,  and  fearing  lest  I  should  break  him  all  to  pieces, 
I  rushed  below  for  the  skipper.  That  gentleman  was 
busy  in  his  laboratory,  making  carburetted  hydrogen, 
I  should  judge,  from  the  "  feel  of  the  smell,"  as  the 
Scotch  say,  but  in  answer  to  my  agitated  call  he 
emerged,  serene  and  bland,  to  inquire  my  business. 
Faith,  I  could  hardly  tell  him,  what  with  the  reek,  my 
haste,  and  the  anxiety  I  felt.    Somehow  I  managed  to 

134 


A  Scientific   Cruise 

convey  to  him  that  the  pilot  was  being  done  to  death 
in  his  chair,  and  as  I  did  so  I  noticed  (or  thought  I 
did)  a  momentary  gleam  of  satisfaction  in  his  star- 
board eye.  But  he  mounted  the  companion,  and  glid- 
ing to  the  spot  where  the  unhappy  man,  voiceless  and 
black  in  the  face,  was  struggling,  he  stooped,  touched 
a  spring,  and  that  infernal  chair  fell  out  flat  like  a 
board.  I  stooped  to  assist  the  victim,  but,  unluckily 
for  me,  he  sprang  to  his  feet  at  the  same  moment,  and 
his  head  catching  me  under  the  chin,  I  had  urgent 
business  of  my  own  to  attend  to  for  some  little  time. 
When  I  got  quite  well  again,  I  heard  conversation.  In 
fact  I  might  almost  say  the  coolies  in  the  jungle  heard 
it.  The  pilot  was  expressing  his  opinion  upon  his  re- 
cent experience,  and  from  his  manner  I  concluded  that 
he  was  annoyed.  When  at  last  he  had  finished,  and 
the  lingering  echoes  had  died  away,  the  old  man,  look- 
ing as  happy  as  a  lamb,  offered  to  show  him  the  beauty 
and  ingenuity  of  the  mechanism.  But  the  pilot  merely 
suggested  that  the  only  sight  that  could  interest  him 
just  then  would  be  the  old  man  dangling  by  the  neck 
at  the  cro'jack  yard-arm,  with  that  something  (I  didn't 
quite  catch  the  adjective)  chair  jammed  on  to  his 
legs.  And  then  the  unreasonable  man  walked  for- 
ward, leaving  the  skipper  looking  after  him  with  a 
puzzled,  yearning  expression  upon  his  pleasant  face. 
Perhaps  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  thenceforward 
relations  between  the  pilot  and  the  captain  were  some- 
what strained.  At  any  rate,  the  former  potentate  re- 
fused to  come  below,  taking  his  meals  on  deck  with  an 
air  as  of  a  man  whose  life  was  at  the  mercy  of  irre- 

135 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

sponsible  beings,  and  when  at  last  we  hauled  up  at  the 
mouth  of  the  river  for  the  pilot  brig  to  send  a  boat  for 
our  pilot,  he  left  the  ship  looking  supremely  relieved. 
To  the  skipper's  outstretched  hand  he  was  blind,  and 
to  that  gentleman's  kindly  good-bye  he  said  naught 
but  "  thank  God,  I'm  safe  out  of  your  ship."  Away  he 
went,  never  once  looking  back  to  where  we  were  busily 
setting  sail  for  the  long  homeward  passage. 

For  some  days  everything  went  on  greased  wheels. 
Except  for  an  air  of  mystery  that  overhung  the  ship, 
and  which  puzzled  me  not  a  little,  she  was  the  most 
comfortable  craft  I  ever  sailed  in.  The  skipper 
scarcely  ever  appeared,  although  sundry  strange  noises 
and  unpleasant  odours  proceeding  from  his  laboratory 
were  evidence  all-sufficient  that  he  was  on  the  alert. 
I  was  somewhat  aggrieved  though  by  the  mate's  sar- 
donic grin  every  time  he  relieved  me,  and  made  the 
usual  remark,  "  still  alive,  eh  ?  "  Still,  as  each  quiet 
day  succeeded  a  quieter  night  my  wonderment  be- 
came dulled,  and  I  thought  that  either  the  mate  was 
mistaken  or  that  he  had  been  trying  to  fool  me. 

One  evening,  however,  when  we  were  drawing  near 
the  line,  I  came  on  deck  at  four  bells  to  find  the  mate's 
watch  busy  rigging  up  a  sort  of  theatre  aft.  An  awn- 
ing had  been  stretched  over  the  front  of  the  poop, 
weather  cloths  were  hung  along  each  side,  and  seats 
arranged.  As  soon  as  I  appeared,  looking  round  me 
in  astonishment,  the  mate  approached  me  and  said, 
"  th'  entertainment's  goin'  ter  begin."  Before  I  had 
time  to  question  him  as  to  his  meaning,  the  old  man 
emerged  from  the  cabin  loaded  with  sundry  strange- 

136 


A  Scientific  Cruise 

looking  machines,  and  followed  by  the  steward  bear- 
ing more.  For  a  few  minutes  he  was  mighty  busy  pla- 
cing his  menagerie  in  order,  and  then  he  turned  to 
me  and  said  briskly,  "  Now,  Mr.  Roper,  I'm  all  ready, 
go  forrard  and  invite  the  hands  aft  to  the  lecture." 
"  Aye,  aye,  sir,"  I  answered  mechanically,  and  de- 
parted. I  found  all  hands  outside  the  forecastle,  evi- 
dently waiting  for  the  summons,  but  looking  as  unlike 
men  expecting  a  treat  as  one  could  possibly  picture. 
But  they  all  shambled  aft  in  silence,  and  took  their 
seats  with  eyes  fixed  upon  the  strange-looking  assem- 
blage of  machinery  in  the  centre. 

It  was  a  lovely  evening,  the  sails  just  drawing  to  a 
steady  air,  while  the  sea  was  so  smooth  that  the  ves- 
sel was  almost  as  motionless  as  if  in  dock.  As  it  was 
my  watch  on  deck,  I  mounted  the  poop,  glanced  at 
the  standard  compass,  cast  my  eye  aloft  to  see  that 
all  was  as  it  should  be,  and  then  turned  my  gaze  with 
intense  interest  upon  the  scene  below.  And  what  a 
scene  it  was  to  be  sure.  All  hands  were  glaring  upon 
the  high  priest  of  the  mysteries  as  if  mesmerised, 
every  expression  gone  from  their  faces  but  that  of  pain- 
ful anxiety  to  know  what  was  going  to  happen.  The 
skipper  was  as  busy  as  two  people  about  his  wheels 
and  things,  and  the  unhappy  steward  like  an  image 
of  fear  obeyed  mechanically  the  various  commands  of 
his  dread  master.  At  last  a  whirring  sound  was  heard 
like  the  humming  of  some  huge  imprisoned  bee,  and 
to  this  accompaniment  the  skipper  took  up  his  parable 
and  proceeded  to  talk.  I  frankly  confess  that  I  know 
no  more  what  he  said  than  I  should  have  done  had  he 

137 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

been  speaking  in  Sanskrit,  and  I  am  perfectly  sure  that 
none  of  his  audience  were  in  any  better  case.  Indeed, 
from  what  I  could  see  of  their  faces,  I  believe  every 
other  sense  was  merged  in  the  full  expectation  of  an 
explosion,  and  they  couldn't  have  taken  their  strained 
eyes  off  the  buzzing  gadget  in  their  midst  for  any 
consideration  whatever.  Suddenly  a  dark  shadow 
glided  across  the  patch  of  deck  behind  the  skipper, 
which  I  recognized  as  a  monkey  belonging  to  one  of 

the   crew.      It   reached   the    machine,   and   then 

What  really  happened  nobody  is  ever  likely  to  know, 
for  in  a  moment  there  was  a  shriek,  a  perfect  shower  of 
blue  sparks  and  a  writhing,  kicking,  biting  heap  of 
skipper,  monkey,  and  steward.  Some  of  the  fellows, 
acting  upon  impulse,  forgot  their  fears  and  rushed  to 
the  rescue,  but  only  succeeded  in  adding  to  the  in- 
fernal riot,  as  they  too  became  involved  in  the  mysteri- 
ous calamity.  Others,  wiser  in  their  generation,  fled 
forward  to  the  fo'c'sle,  from  whence  they  gradually 
crept  aft  again  near  enough  to  watch  in  safety  the 
devil's  dance  that  was  going  on.  I  looked  on  in  a  sort 
of  coma  of  all  the  faculties,  until  the  mate  touched  me 
on  the  shoulder,  and  said  in  a  sepulchral  voice — 

"  Now,  Mr.  Roper,  djever  strike  any  thin'  o'  this 
kind  before.  Ain't  it  scientific  ?  Ain't  he  a  holy  terror 
at  science?  What  I'd  like  ter  know  is,  where  do  I 
come  on  in  this  Gypshun  Hall  business?  Damfime 
goin'  ter  be  blame  well  paralyzed,  or  whatever  it  is, 
for  all  the  skippers  erflote,  n'  yet — n'  yet ;  I  don't  like 
ter  see  sech  ungodly  carryins  on  aboard  of  any  ship 
I'm  mate  of." 

138 


A  Scientific   Cruise 

I  hadn't  time  to  answer  him — besides  I  couldn't,  I 
was  all  shook  up  like ;  but  while  I  was  trying  to  get 
my  thinking-gear  in  order,  there  was  a  bang,  all  the 
sufferers  yelled  at  once,  and  then  all  was  quiet  Both 
the  mate  and  myself  sprang  into  the  arena,  fully  ex- 
pecting to  find  all  the  actors  dead,  but,  bless  you,  they 
were  all  laying  round  looking  as  if  they'd  been  having 
no  end  of  a  spree.  All  except  the  monkey,  that  is. 
He  was  a  very  unhandsome  little  corpse,  and  I  picked 
him  up  by  the  tail  to  throw  him  overboard,  getting  a 
shock  through  my  right  arm  that  took  all  the  use  out 
of  it  for  quite  a  while.  Presently  the  fellows  began  to 
get  up  one  by  one  and  slink  away  forrard,  still  with  that 
half-drunk  smile  on  their  heads,  but  when  we  came 
to  the  skipper,  although  he  wore  a  wide  smile  too, 
he  hadn't  any  get  up  about  him.  Not  he.  He  lay 
there  as  comfy  as  you  please,  taking  no  notice  of  any- 
thing we  said,  or  any  heed  of  the  deliberate  way  in 
which  the  mate  was  pushing  the  remains  of  his  ma- 
chinery out  through  the  gaping  port  with  a  broom. 
We  couldn't  move  him.  He  was  just  charged  jam 
full  of  electricity,  and  one  of  the  men  who  did  touch 
him  let  a  yell  out  of  him  fit  to  call  D.  Jones,  Esq., 
up  from  below,  but  it  didn't  change  the  skipper's 
happy  look  one  fragment.  Well,  he  laid  there  all  night 
alongside  of  the  steward,  and  in  the  morning  he  gets 
up  just  before  wash-deck  time,  and,  says  he,  "  Mr. 
Roper,  I  shan't  give  any  more  scientific  exhibitions 
this  trip ;  I  think  they're  immoral."  With  that  he  hob- 
bled into  his  cabin,  and  we  saw  no  more  of  him  for 
a  week.    When  we  did,  you  couldn't  have  got  a  grain 

J39 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

of  science  out  of  him  with  a  small-tooth  comb,  and 
the  mate  looked  as  glad  as  if  he'd  been  appointed  Lord 
High  Admiral.  And  from  thenceforward  she  was,  as 
I  had  at  first  imagined  she  would  be,  the  most  com- 
fortable vessel  I  ever  sailed  in. 


140 


A  GENIAL    SKIPPER 

Captain  Scott  was  as  commonplace  a  little  man 
as  ever  commanded  an  old  wooden  tub  of  a  barque 
lumbering  her  way  forlornly  from  port  to  port  seeking 
freight  as  a  beggar  seeks  pence.  His  command,  the 
Sarah  Jane,  belonged  to  a  decayed  firm  of  shipowners 
that,  like  many  other  old-fashioned  tradesmen,  had 
not  kept  pace  with  the  times,  and  were  now  reduced 
to  the  possession  of  this  ancient  pauper  and  a  still  older 
brig,  all  the  rest  of  their  once  stately  fleet  having  been 
sold  or  lost  or  seized  to  satisfy  mortgages.  Yet  they 
still  retained  a  keen  sense  of  respectability,  and  when 
Captain  Scott  applied  for  the  command  of  the  Sarah 
Jane  they  were  exceedingly  careful  to  ascertain  that  he 
was  strictly  sober  and  trustworthy.  He  not  only  suc- 
ceeded in  satisfying  them  on  these  points,  but  in  some 
mysterious  manner  persuaded  them  also  that  he  was 
exceedingly  pious,  and  would  certainly  hold  service 
on  board  every  Sunday,  weather  permitting.  That 
settled  his  appointment,  for  the  senior  member  of  the 
firm  was  a  good,  honest  Dissenter,  who,  if  a  trifle  nar- 
row and  bigoted  in  his  religious  views,  was  sincerely 
anxious  to  live  up  to  the  light  he  had.  Beyond  all 
question  the  Sarah  Jane  was  the  best-found  vessel  of 
her  class  in  the  food  line  that  we  chaps  forrard  had  ever 

141 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

sailed  in.  It  would  have  been  hard  to  find  a  more 
agreeably  surprised  little  crowd  than  we  were  when 
the  first  meal  appeared  in  the  fo'c'sle,  for  our  pre- 
liminary view  of  the  ship  certainly  gave  us  the  idea  that 
we  were  in  for  "  plenty  pump  and  velly  flat  belly,"  as  a 
quaint  little  Italian  A.  B.  said  while  we  were  selecting 
bunks. 

But  no,  she  was  a  comfortable  ship.  There  was 
certainly  "  plenty  pump,"  but  the  grub  was  so  good 
that  there  was  never  a  growl  heard  among  us,  and  a 
pleasanter  passage  out  to  Algoa  Bay  than  we  enjoyed 
could  hardly  be  imagined.  The  Sunday  services  were 
held,  too — that  is  to  say,  twice ;  after  that  they  were 
quietly  dropped  without  any  reason  assigned.  No 
one  felt  sorry,  for  there  was  an  air  of  unreality  and 
constraint  about  the  whole  thing  that  was  puzzling  and 
unsatisfactory ;  and  on  several  occasions  there  was 
wafted  across  the  poop,  as  the  skipper  emerged  from 
the  companion,  a  tantalizing  odour  which  none  of  us 
could  mistake — the  rich  bouquet  of  old  Jamaica  rum. 
This  gave  rise  to  many  discussions  in  the  fo'c'sle. 
The  port  watch  took  sides  against  the  starboard,  in- 
sisting that  the  old  man  had  fallen  from  grace,  if, 
which  was  problematical,  he  had  ever  possessed  any 
of  that  mysterious  quality.  We  of  the  starboard,  or 
skipper's  watch,  as  in  duty  bound,  stood  up  for  him, 
accounting  for  the  thirst-provoking  smell  that  came 
wafting  upwards  from  the  cabin  periodically  by  the 
theory  of  the  Sarah  Jane  having  been  an  old  sugar 
drogher  for  many  years,  until  her  timbers  were  satu- 
rated with  the  flavour  of  rum,  and,  according  as  the 

142 


A  Genial  Skipper 

wind  tended  to  diffuse  it,  we  were  favoured  with  it  on 
deck. 

Never  was  a  skipper  watched  more  closely  by  his 
crew  than  Captain  Scott  was  by  us,  for  the  steward 
and  the  officers  were  unapproachable  upon  the  subject, 
and  it  was  only  by  catching  him  really  drunk  that  our 
continual  dispute  could  be  settled.  After  we  had 
crossed  the  Line,  and  were  getting  rapidly  to  the 
suth'ard,  I  began  to  lose  faith,  for,  although  I  could 
not  determine  whether  the  skipper's  peculiar  gait  was 
or  was  not  the  regular  nautical  roll  accentuated  by 
some  physical  peculiarity,  there  was  no  mistaking  the 
ever-deepening  hue  of  his  face.  When  we  left  home 
it  was  fresh-coloured,  but  as  the  weeks  went  by  it  took 
on  the  glow  of  burnished  copper— especially  after  din- 
ner— and  sometimes  his  nose  looked  warm  enough  to 
light  one's  pipe  at  it.  However,  we  reached  Algoa  Bay 
without  settling  our  argument — openly,  that  is.  In 
truth,  we  of  the  starboard  watch  were  looking  eagerly 
for  some  way  of  retreat  from  what  we  all  felt  was 
getting  to  be  an  untenable  position.  Still,  no  agreement 
was  arrived  at  until  we  had  been  at  anchor  off  Port 
Elizabeth  for  a  week,  during  which  time  we  had  never 
.seen  our  respected  skipper  once. 

Then  there  arrived  alongside,  on  a  Saturday  after- 
noon, after  we  had  washed  decks  and  were  dabbing 
out  our  own  few  bits  of  duds  for  Sunday,  a  surf-boat, 
in  the  stern  of  which  sat  precariously  a  very  drunken 
man.  He  was  truculently  drunk,  and  the  big  cigar, 
which  was  stuck  in  one  angle  of  his  protruding  lips, 
pointed  upwards  like  an  old  collier's  jibboom.     Both 

M3 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

his  hands  were  thrust  deep  into  his  pockets,  and  his 
top-hat  was  jammed  hard  down  on  the  back  of  his 
head.  As  the  boat  bumped  alongside,  his  insecure 
seat  failed  him,  and  he  lurched  massively  forward 
upon  the  crown  of  his  hat,  which  caved  in  after  its 
brim  had  passed  his  ears,  adding  to  the  picturesque- 
ness  of  his  outfit.  The  boatmen  seized  and  reinstated 
him  upon  a  thwart,  receiving  for  their  pains  an  address 
that  reeked  of  the  pit.  For  variety  of  profanity  we 
all  admitted  it  to  be  far  beyond  anything  of  the  kind 
that  we  had  ever  heard,  and  one  of  our  number  sug- 
gested that  he  had  been  founding  a  new  church  during 
his  absence,  his  outbreak  of  peculiar  language  being 
part  of  the  liturgy  thereof.  We  only  had  an  ordinary 
side  ladder  of  the  usual  type  carried  in  those  ships — 
two  ropes  with  wooden  rungs  seized  between  them — 
which  was  suspended  perpendicularly  from  the  rail. 
This  kind  of  approach  is  not  easy  of  negotiation  by 
anybody  but  a  sober  sailor;  it  was  impossible  now  to 
Captain  Scott.  He  gazed  upwards  fiercely  at  the 
anxious  face  of  the  mate,  and,  with  many  flowers  of 
speech,  insisted  that  a  whip  should  be  rigged  on  the 
mainyard  for  him — blasphemously  sharp,  too,  or  he 
would,  yes,  he  would,  when  he  did  get  aboard. 

So  we  rigged  a  single  whip  at  the  mate's  order, 
not  without  many  audible  comments  upon  this  new 
development  and  recriminations  between  the  members 
of  the  two  disputing  watches.  With  many  a  bump, 
as  the  vessel  rolled  to  the  incoming  swell,  we  hoisted 
our  commander  on  board,  letting  him  come  down  on 
deck  with  a  jolt  that  must  have  well-nigh  started  all 

144 


A  Genial  Skipper 

his  teeth.  Released  from  his  bonds,  he  rose  swaying 
to  his  feet,  and,  glaring  round  upon  the  assembled 
crew,  roared  thickly,  '*  All  ban's  short'n  sail  1 "  There 
was  a  shout  of  laughter  at  this  maniacal  command, 
which  infuriated  him  so  much  that  he  seemed  trans- 
formed into  a  veritable  demon.  His  face  went  purple, 
he  ground  his  teeth  like  a  fighting  boar,  and  would 
no  doubt  have  had  some  sort  of  fit  but  for  a  diversion 
made  by  the  boatmen  who  had  brought  him  off.  One 
of  them  approached  him,  saying  abruptly  but  quite 
civilly — 

"  If  you  don't  want  us  any  more,  sir,  we  sh'd  like 
our  fare,  so's  we  can  get  ashore  again." 

Peculiarly,  this  interruption  changed  his  mood  into 
the  coldly  sarcastic.  With  an  air  of  exquisite  polite- 
ness he  turned  to  the  boatman,  and,  with  a  bear-like 
bow,  said — 

"  Ho,  indeed ;  Hi  'ave  much  pleasure  in  'earin'  ov 
it.  An'  may  we  take  th'  hopportunity  hof  harskin'  oo 
th'  'ells  a-preventin'  hof  yer  frum  goin'  t'  the  devil 
hif  ye  likes."  (Be  it  noted  that  when  sober  he  spoke 
fairly  correct  English.)  "  Has  ter  a-wantin'  hof  ye 
hany  more,  Hi  wouldn't  'ave  a  barge-load  hof  yer  fur 
a  gift ;  Hi  wouldn't  carry  yer  fur  ballast,  there !  Might 
come  in  'andy  for  dunnagin'  carsks — but  there,  I  don' 
know.    Anyway,  get  t'  'ell  houter  this." 

Of  course,  it  could  hardly  be  expected  that  such 
sturdy  independent  souls  as  Algoa  Bay  boatmen 
would  be  likely  to  take  contumely  of  this  sort  meekly 
in  exchange  for  their  hard  labours.  At  any  rate,  if 
such  a  thing  had  ever  been  expected,  the  expectation 

M5 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

was  doomed  to  instant  disappointment.  Turning  to 
the  rail,  the  boatman  who  had  spoken  to  the  skipper 
gave  a  shout  which  brought  the  six  of  his  mates  on 
deck.  Just  a  word  or  two  of  explanation,  and  they  ad- 
vanced threateningly  towards  their  debtor.  We  stood 
in  passive  enjoyment  of  what  we  felt  was  soon  to  be 
a  due  meting  out  of  reward  to  a  man  who  deserved 
such  recompense  richly.  The  two  mates  made  a  feeble 
attempt  to  interfere,  but  were  roughly  thrust  aside, 
while  the  enraged  boatmen  seized  the  burly  form  of 
our  skipper,  and  were  about  to  manhandle  him  over 
the  side  when  he  roared  for  mercy,  saying  that  he 
would  pay  all  their  demand.  He  did  so,  and  they  de- 
parted, not  without  a  full  and  complete  exposition  of 
what  they  considered  to  be  all  his  characteristics,  men- 
tal and  physical.  They  had  hardly  left  the  side  when 
the  skipper  ordered  the  windlass  to  be  manned,  and,  in 
spite  of  his  drunken  condition,  no  long  time  elapsed 
before  we  were  under  way  and  standing  rapidly  out 
to  sea. 

But  that  night  a  black  south-easter  sprang  up,  to 
which  we  set  all  the  sail  we  could  stagger  under  for 
our  northward  passage  to  Pondicherry,  but  towards 
morning  the  wind  backed  to  the  northward,  and  blew 
so  hard  as  to  necessitate  the  sudden  taking  in  of  all 
the  sail  we  had  set  except  a  tiny  storm-staysail.  But, 
while  we  were,  all  hands  of  us,  in  the  throes  of  our 
conflict  with  the  slatting  topsails,  a  curious  thing  hap- 
pened. Sharp  snapping  noises  were  heard,  and 
flashes  of  light  totally  unlike  lightning  were  seen  on 
deck.     Cries  were  heard,  too,  that  were  disconcerting, 

146 


A  Genial   Skipper 

for  it  seemed  as  if  a  row  was  going  on  for  which  we 
could  imagine  no  cause.  Suddenly  the  little  Italian, 
who  was  manfully  struggling  by  my  side  to  get  the 
topsail  furled,  yelled  at  the  pitch  of  his  voice  some- 
thing in  his  own  language,  at  the  same  time  disappear- 
ing to  a  dangling' position  on  the  foot-rope.  This  was 
strange,  but  almost  immediately  after  something  with 
a  sharp  "  ping  "  struck  the  yard  by  my  side,  and  the 
horrible  truth  flashed  into  my  mind  that  somebody 
on  deck  was  shooting  at  us  poor  wretches  struggling 
aloft.  It  is  difficult,  indeed,  to  express  what  the  con- 
ditions of  our  minds  were  upon  making  this  discovery. 
The  handling  of  sails  by  a  weak  crew  in  a  gale  of 
wind  at  night  is  no  child's  play  at  any  time,  but  when 
to  that  great  fight  is  added  the  peculiar  complication 
of  a  drunken  madman  amusing  himself  by  taking  pot- 
shots at  the  men  aloft,  the  condition  of  things  is,  to 
say  the  least,  disconcerting.  The  sails  were  let  go. 
Incontinently  we  slid  down  on  deck,  taking  refuge  be- 
hind whatsoever  shelter  we  could  find.  Happily, 
Natalie,  the  poor  little  Italian,  managed  to  get  down 
too,  having,  as  we  presently  discovered,  a  bullet 
through  the  fleshy  part  of  his  arm.  The  sails  blew  to 
pieces,  the  ship  tumbled  about  helplessly,  the  helms- 
man having  run  from  his  post,  and  it  appeared  as  if  a 
terrible  calamity  was  about  to  overtake  us,  but  pres- 
ently the  two  mates  came  forrard,  saying,  "  It's  all 
right,  men.  We've  knocked  him  down,  and,  although 
we  couldn't  find  his  revolver,  we  have  locked  him 
up  in  his  cabin.  For  God's  sake,  turn  to  and  get  the 
ship  in  hand." 

147 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

With  many  muttered  curses  and  desires  of  taking 
the  skipper's  life  we  resumed  our  duties,  and  soon  had 
got  the  rags  of  sail  still  left  on  the  yards  snugly  se- 
cured. Then  the  watch  entitled  to  go  below  retired. 
Natalie  had  his  wound  dressed,  and  peace  reigned  for 
a  time.  In  the  morning  the  skipper,  being  sober, 
begged  piteously  to  be  released.  All  of  us  protested 
strongly  against  any  such  piece  of  folly  being  perpe- 
trated. However,  after  he  had  been  confined  a  week 
our  hearts  relented  towards  him,  and,  upon  his  making 
a  solemn  assurance  that  he  had  no  more  ammunition 
or  grog,  which  latter  disturbing  element  the  mates 
assured  us  they  had  searched  for  and  were  unable  to 
find,  it  was  agreed  that  he  should  resume  command. 

During  the  rest  of  our  passage  to  Pondicherry  there 
was  certainly  nothing  to  complain  of.  More,  she  was 
as  comfortable  a  ship  as  one  could  wish  to  be  on  board 
of.  Evidently,  with  a  view  to  mollifying  our  feelings 
towards  him.  Captain  Scott  allowed  us  to  fare  as  well 
as  he  and  his  officers  did,  so  that  by  the  time  we 
anchored  in  Pondicherry  we  had,  with  the  short 
memory  for  previous  suflferings  peculiarly  character- 
istic of  sailors,  apparently  entirely  forgotten  his  ami- 
able little  outbreak.  Nor  during  her  stay  at  Pondi- 
cherry did  we  have  anything  to  complain  of.  Then 
came  the  welcome  news  that  we  were  homeward 
bound.  On  a  glorious  morning,  just  at  daybreak,  the 
order  was  given  to  man  the  windlass,  and,  with  the 
singing  that  old-time  shanty  of  "  Hurrah,  my  boys, 
we're  homeward  bound,"  we  were  all  lustily  engaged 
in  tearing  out  the  big  mud-hook,  when  suddenly,  to 

148 


A  Genial  Skipper 

our  unspeakable  horror,  Captain  Scott  emerged  from 
the  cabin,  his  outstretched  hands  each  grasping  a  huge 
navy  revolver,  and  almost  immediately  after  bullets 
were  flying  like  hail.  Like  frightened  rabbits,  we 
bolted  for  even  the.  most  impracticable  holes  and  cor- 
ners— anywhere,  indeed,  out  of  that  withering  fire. 
The  situation  was  desperate,  but,  happily  for  us,  a  Brit- 
ish gunboat  was  lying  near.  The  officer  in  charge  of 
her  deck,  hearing  the  fusillade,  with  naval  promptitude 
sent  a  boat's  crew  on  board  to  inquire  into  the  cause 
of  this  strange  occurrence. 

It  so  happened  that  the  inquirers  arrived  just  as 
Captain  Scott  was  recharging  his  revolver,  and  they 
lost  no  time  in  taking  him  prisoner.  We,  the  luckless 
crew,  emerging  from  our  various  hiding-places,  laid 
the  matter  before  them  with  much  wealth  of  detail, 
and  the  result  that  we  presently  had  the  satisfaction 
of  seeing  our  vivacious  commander,  bound  hand  and 
foot,  being  lowered  into  the  boat  for  conveyance  on 
board  the  man-o'-war.  Her  commander  held  an  in- 
quiry immediately  into  Captain  Scott's  conduct,  exam- 
ining us  closely  as  to  the  reasons  for  this  outbreak,  if 
we  could  give  any.  Strange  to  say,  our  recollection  of 
his  good  treatment  outweighed  our  immediate  resent- 
ment against  him,  and  we  agreed  that  if  only  he  could 
be  rendered  incapable  of  either  getting  drunk  or  shoot- 
ing, we  should  be  glad  to  finish  the  voyage  with  him. 
So,  after  a  thorough  search  for  fire-arms  and  rum, 
resulting  in  the  discovery  of  no  less  than  four  more 
revolvers,  quite  a  large  box  of  ammunition,  and  an 
extraordinarily  large  quantity  of  the  potent  liquor,  all 
II  149 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

of  which  was  duly  confiscated  by  the  naval  authorities, 
we  returned  to  our  duties,  got  under  way,  and  sailed 
for  home.  . 

The  Sarah  Jane  was  a  most  fortunate  ship,  as  far 
as  weather  was  concerned,  at  any  rate.  Catching  the 
first  breath  of  the  north-eastern  monsoon  immediately 
outside  the  harbour,  under  all  canvas  we  bowled 
briskly  down  to  the  line,  crossed  it  with  a  steady,  if 
light  breeze  from  the  northward,  and,  without  experi- 
encing any  calm  worth  mentioning,  presently  found 
ourselves  in  the  tender  embrace  of  the  south-east  trade- 
winds,  and  being  wafted  steadily  at  the  rate  of  about 
five  knots  an  hour  across  the  vast  placid  bosom  of  the 
Indian  Ocean. 

Life  at  sea  under  such  conditions  is  very  pleasant. 
For  the  vicissitudes  of  a  sailor's  life  only  become  hard 
to  bear  when  weather  is  bad,  food  scanty,  and  officers 
brutal.  When  the  opposites  of  these  three  conditions 
obtain,  the  sailor  can  gladly  put  up  with  many  evil 
qualities  in  the  ship  itself.  The  leakiness  of  our  old 
vessel  troubled  us  not  at  all  as  long  as  the  pleasant 
conditions  of  which  I  have  spoken  continued.  Even 
when  we  reached  the  stormy  latitudes  adjacent  to  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope  we  were  favoured  by  fair  winds 
until  we  arrived  off  Simons  Bay,  when  the  wind  fell 
away,  and  a  perfect  calm  ensued  with  lowering,  ugly- 
looking  weather.  But  our  good  fortune  still  remained. 
The  great  sweep  of  the  Agulhas  current  carried  us 
round  the  Cape  of  Storms  homeward  without  any  wind 
worth  taking  notice  of  coming  upon  us  out  of  the 
leaden-looking  sky,  and  so  we  rounded  the  Cape,  and 

150 


A  Genial  Skipper 

with  a  fine  southerly  breeze  pointed  the  Sarah  Jane 
jibboom  homeward. 

The  usual  routine  work  of  cleaning  ship  was  in- 
dulged in.  Nothing  worthy  of  notice  occurred  until 
losing  the  trades.  In  about  7°  N.  lat.  a  calm  of  a 
week's  duration  ensued.  Here  we  fell  in  with  several 
other  ships,  and  our  captain,  apparently  with  a  view  of 
getting  a  little  amusement,  had  a  boat  out,  and  went 
ship-visiting.  This  suited  us  admirably.  Sailors  al- 
ways enjoy  it,  perhaps  because  they  get  so  little  of  it 
on  board  merchant  ships.  The  first  two  ships  we  vis- 
ited were  evidently  strongly  teetotal,  for  we  noticed  that 
while  our  captain  returned  on  board  perfectly  sober, 
he  always  looked  exceedingly  glum  and  disappointed. 
But  at  last  we  spoke  a  vessel  whose  captain  was  in 
dire  want  of  a  little  fresh  water.  We  had  plenty  to 
spare,  and  in  no  long  time  had  filled  a  couple  of 
puncheons,  lowered  them  over  the  side  into  the  water, 
and  towed  them  to  the  other  ship.  Her  captain's 
gratitude  was  great ;  in  fact,  he  seemed  hardly  able  to 
reward  us  sufficiently.  Among  other  gifts  we  received 
a  huge  hog,  two  cases  of  preserved  beef,  a  barrel  of 
cabin  biscuits,  and  two  large  cases  of  what  appeared 
to  us  to  be  lime-juice.  We  returned  on  board,  and 
hoisted  in  our  spoils. 

That  night  a  breeze  sprang  up,  and  the  little  com- 
pany of  vessels  that  had  clustered  together  in  the  vor- 
tex made  by  the  "  trades  "  separated,  and  pursued 
their  various  ways.  Next  morning  we  were  alone,  our 
ship  was  by  herself  on  the  face  of  the  deep.  The 
steward  went  to  call  the  captain  as  usual,  but  could  get 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

no  response.  Alarmed,  he  came  and  reported  the 
matter  to  the  mate,  whose  watch  on  deck  it  was  at  the 
time.  The  mate  went  down,  and,  after  repeated  knock- 
ings  at  the  captain's  door  which  failed  to  obtain  any 
response,  took  violent  measures,  and  burst  the  door 
open. 

The  captain  was  not  there,  A  search  was  imme- 
diately made  without  result,  but  presently,  to  the  hor- 
ror of  every  one  on  board,  the  steward,  a  rather  feeble- 
minded mulatto,  rushed  on  deck  shouting  "  Fire !  "  It 
need  not  be  said  how  terrible  this  cry  at  sea  always 
is,  but  it  is  never  more  so  than  when  on  board  a  badly- 
found  wooden  ship.  However,  all  hands  rushed  aft  at 
the  call  of  the  mate,  and  prepared  to  do  everything 
that  was  possible  for  the  subdual  of  the  fire  when  it 
should  be  located.  The  smoke  appeared  to  be  rising 
from  the  lazarette,  a  store-room  in  the  after  part  of  the 
ship  beneath  the  cabin.  The  mate  and  a  couple  of 
men  tore  off  the  hatch,  and,  half  choked  with  the 
smoke  that  burst  up  in  a  great  volume,  made  their  way 
below,  only  to  scramble  out  again  in  double  quick 
time  and  fall  fainting  on  the  deck. 

Meanwhile  everybody  was  wondering  what  had  be- 
come of  the  captain,  until  suddenly  an  awful-looking 
figure  was  seen  emerging  from  a  ventilator  on  deck  at 
the  fore  part  of  the  cabin.  It  was  the  captain,  who 
announced  his  presence  with  a  series  of  horrible  yells. 
His  clothes  were  in  ribands,  his  face  was  black,  his 
eyeballs  glared.  Several  of  us  made  a  rush  at  him, 
conceiving  him  to  have  suddenly  gone  mad,  but  he 
eluded  our  grasp,  and,  nimble  as  a  monkey,  rushed  up 

152 


A  Genial  Skipper 

aloft,  and  sat  mowing  on  the  mainyard.  A  couple  of 
us  started  after  him,  but  were  recalled  by  the  second 
mate,  who  said — 

"  Let  the  old alone.    We  have  got  something 

else  to  do  if  we  want  to  save  our  lives." 

And  indeed  we  had.  The  feeble  pump  in  the  bows 
of  the  ship,  which  we  used  for  washing  decks,  was  not 
of  the  slightest  service  as  a  fire-engine,  and  drawing 
water  overside  by  buckets  is  a  tedious  process.  We 
could  hear  the  roaring  of  the  flames  underneath  our 
feet,  we  could  feel  the  decks  getting  hot,  and  as  it 
appeared  that  our  labour  was  utterly  in  vain,  and  that 
if  we  wished  to  save  our  lives  we  must  waste  no  time  in 
getting  the  boats  provisioned  and  lowered,  we  turned 
all  our  energies  in  that  direction.  By  the  most  tre- 
mendous exertions  we  succeeded  in  getting  a  fairly 
satisfactory  amount  of  food  and  water  into  the  two 
boats,  along  with  some  clothing,  a  compass,  and  a 
sextant.  Hardly  had  we  done  so  before  a  sudden  out- 
burst of  flame  from  the  cabin  of  furious  violence 
warned  us  that  it  was  time  to  be  gone. 

Meanwhile  the  skipper  had  been  raging,  a  howling 
madman,  on  the  mainyard.  What  was  to  be  done 
about  him?  Truth  compels  me  to  state  that  the  ma- 
jority of  us  were  for  leaving  him  to  his  fate,  realizing 
that  to  him  we  owed  all  our  misfortunes.  But  still, 
that  we  could  hardly  bring  ourselves  to  do  when  the 
time  came.  The  ship  herself  solved  the  question  for 
us.  She  seemed  to  suddenly  burst  into  flame  fore  and 
aft,  the  inflammable  cargo,  most  of  which  was  of 
cotton  and  various  grasses,  burning  almost  like  turpcn- 

153 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

tine.  Indeed,  some  of  us  were  compelled  to  spring 
into  the  sea  and  clamber  on  board  the  boats  as  best  we 
could.  Having  done  so,  it  became  necessary  to  put  a 
goodly  distance  between  us  and  the  ship  with  little 
delay,  for  the  heat  was  terrible.  And  there  sat  the 
skipper  on  the  mainyard,  while  the  long  tongues  of 
flame  went  writhing  up  the  well-tarred  rigging.  Sud- 
denly we  saw  him  spring  to  his  feet,  balancing  himself 
for  a  moment  on  the  yard,  and  then,  with  a  most 
graceful  curve,  he  sprang  into  the  sea.  He  reappeared, 
swimming  strongly,  and  the  mate's  boat  picked  him 
up.  And  here  occurred  the  strangest  part  of  the  whole 
matter,  for  no  sooner  was  he  in  the  boat  than  all  the 
previous  occurrences  seemed  to  be  wiped  clean  out 
of  his  mind,  and  he  was  as  sane  as  any  man  among  us. 
We  stared  at  him  in  amazement,  but  he  took  no  notice, 
saying  a  word  or  two  on  the  handling  of  the  boat  or 
the  direction  in  which  she  was  to  be  steered,  but  mak- 
ing no  comment  upon  the  sudden  catastrophe  that 
had  overtaken  us. 

Fortunately  for  us  all,  the  weather  remained  per- 
fectly fine,  and  as  we  knew  we  were  directly  in  the 
track  of  ships,  we  were  under  no  apprehensions  as  to 
our  safety,  but  we  certainly  looked  upon  the  skipper 
as,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  uncanny.  We  watched  him 
closely  by  day  and  by  night,  lest  in  some  new  maniacal 
outbreak  he  should  endanger  the  lives  of  us  all  once 
more,  and  this  time  without  hope  of  recovery.  But  he 
remained  perfectly  quiet  and  sensible,  nor  did  he  betray 
by  any  sign  whatever  any  knowledge  of  what  had  hap- 
pened.    On  the  third  day  we  sighted  a  barque  right 

154 


A  Genial  Skipper 

astern.  She  came  up  grandly,  and  very  soon  we  were 
all  safely  on  board  of  the  same  vessel  from  which  we 
had  received  the  provisions.  Then  we  found  that  the 
two  cases  we  had  supposed  to  contain  lime-juice  had 
really  been  full  of  lime-juice  bottles  of  rum — which 
explained  matters  somewhat. 

And  now  another  astonishing  thing  happened. 
Captain  Scott  suddenly  conceived  the  notion  that  the 
Jocunda  was  his  own  ship,  nor  could  any  arguments 
convince  him  that  he  was  wrong.  The  captain  hu- 
moured him  for  a  while,  but  at  last  his  mania  reached 
such  a  height  that  it  became  necessary  to  confine  him 
in  irons,  and  thus  he  was  kept  under  restraint  until 
our  arrival  in  Plymouth,  where  no  time  was  lost  in 
placing  him  in  a  lunatic  asylum. 

What  became  of  him  I  do  not  know,  but  at  the 
Board  of  Trade  inquiry  all  hands  had  the  greatest  dif- 
ficulty in  persuading  the  officials  that  we  were  not 
joined  in  a  conspiracy  of  lying,  and  I  for  one  felt  that 
we  could  hardly  blame  them. 


155 


MACS    EXPERIMENT 

"  Mahn,  A'am  nae  carin'  a  snap  wut  ye  think  aboot 
ma.  A'am  a  Scoetchman,  ye  ken,  fra  Fogieloan ;  an' 
them  'at  disna  laik  ma  th'  wye  Ah  aam,  c'n  juist  dicht 
ther  nebs  an'  ma  bachle-vamps.  Tha  rampin',  roarin' 
lion  uv  Auld  Scoetland  aye  gaed  his  ain  wye,  an' 
A'am  thinkin'  'at  maist  o'  his  weans  '11  dae  the  same 
thing.  An'  if  tha  canna  dae't  yin  day,  they'll  dae't 
the  neist,  an'  muckle  Auld  Homie  himsel'  winna  stap 
them  a'thegither." 

It  was  a  long  speech  for  Jock  MacTavish,  our  taci- 
turn shipmate  aboard  the  Yankee  whaling-barque 
Ursus.  Like  several  other  luckless  deep-water  sailors, 
he  had  been  **  shanghaied  "  in  San  Francisco,  awaking 
from  the  combined  effects  of  a  drug  that  would  have 
killed  anybody  but  a  sailor,  and  sundry  ugly  blows  on 
the  head,  to  find  himself  booked  for  a  cruise  in  a 
"  spouter  "  for  an  indefinite  length  of  time,  and  at  a 
remuneration  that  none  of  us  were  ever  able  to  under- 
stand. This  was  bad  enough,  in  all  conscience,  but  it 
might  easily  have  been  much  worse,  for  the  Ursus  was 
a  really  good  ship,  as  whalers  go. 

At  the  time  when  this  yarn  begins,  we  had  been 
employing  a  slackness  in  the  fishing  by  having  a  thor- 
ough clean  up.    It  was  very  nearly  time,  for  she  was 

157 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

beginning  to  stink  so  badly  that  every  morsel  of  food 
we  ate  seemed  saturated  with  rancid  whale-oil.  So 
we  worked,  if  possible,  harder  than  usual,  with  sand 
and  ley,  to  remove  the  clotted  fat  from  decks,  bul- 
warks, and  boats,  until  on  Christmas  Eve  she  was 
almost  her  old  clean  self  again.  There  remained  only 
the  tryworks,  but  they  were  certainly  in  a  vile  condi- 
tion of  black  grease. 

At  knock-off  time  (all  hands  had  been  working  all 
day)  we  began  discussing  our  chances  of  having  a 
merry  Christmas  on  the  morrow,  and,  with  the  usual 
argumentativeness  of  sailors,  had  got  a  dozen  different 
theories  started.  But  running  through  them  all  there 
seemed  to  be  a  fixed  idea  that  no  notice  whatever 
would  be  taken  of  a  day  that  we  all  regarded  as  the 
one  festival  of  the  year  .which  could,  by  no  possible 
means,  be  allowed  to  pass  unhonoured. 

No,  not  all,  for  when  the  discussion  was  at  its 
height,  Conkey,  a  lithe  Londoner,  whose  epithet  of 
Cockney  had  somehow  taken  this  form,  suddenly 
looked  straight  to  where  Mac  was  sitting  stolidly 
munching  a  gigantic  fragment  of  prime  East  India 
mess  beef  /it  hadn't  been  round  Cape  Horn  more  than 
four  times),  and  said,  "Wot  d'yer  sye,  Mac?  Ain't 
'erd  from  yer.  'Ow  d'yer  feel  abart  workin'  a  Criss- 
muss  dye  ?  " 

There  was  an  instant  silence,  while  every  one  fas- 
tened his  eyes  on  Mac  and  awaited  his  answer.  Slow- 
ly, as  if  the  words  were  being  squeezed  out  of  him,  he 
replied,  "  It  disna  matter  a  snulT  tae  me  what  wye  'tis. 
Ah  belong  tae  the  Free  Kirk  o'  Scoetland,  an'  she 

158 


Mac's  Experiment 

dfsna  gie  ony  suppoert  tae  siccan  heathen  practusses 
as  th'  obsairvin'  o'  days,  an'  months,  an'  yeers." 

Conkey  sprang  to  his  feet  full  of  fury,  and,  in 
choicest  Mile  End,  informed  Mac  that,  "  hif  'e  thawt 
'e  wuz  blanky  well  goin'  ter  call  'im  a  bloomin'  'eathen 
an'  not  goin'  ter  git  bashed  over  it,  'e  wuz  a  bigger 
blank  fool  then  'e'd  ever  seen  a-smokin'  tea-leaves  ter 
sive  terbacker."  To  this  outburst  Mac  only  said  what 
begins  this  yam,  and,  in  so  saying,  brought  all  hands 
down  on  him  at  once.  Conkey  was  restrained  from 
his  meditated  attack  while  one  after  another  tried  to 
argue  the  point  with  Mac,  and  to  convince  him  that 
no  man  who  neglected  to  keep  Christmas  Day  as  a 
feast  of  jollity  and  respite  from  all  work,  except  under 
the  direst  pressure  of  necessity,  could  possibly  be  a 
Christian. 

The  contract  we  had  on  hand,  though,  was  much 
too  large  for  us.  Metaphorically  speaking,  Mac  wiped 
the  fo'c'sle  deck  with  each  of  us  in  succession.  His 
arguments,  in  the  first  place,  were  far  too  deep  for  our 
capacity,  had  they  been  intelligible ;  but  couched  in 
the  richest  Aberdeenshire  dialect,  and  bristling  with 
theologfcal  terminology  utterly  foreign  to  us,  we  stood 
no  chance.  One  by  one  we  were  reduced  to  silence. 
It  was  broken  by  Conkey,  who  said  finally,  "  Hi  don't 
know  wot  'e  bloomin'  well  sez,  but  Hi  c'n  punch  'is 
hugly  carrotty  mug  for  'im,  an'  'ere  goes." 

Again  we  restrained  our  shipmate's  primitive  in- 
stincts, while  Mac  slowly  rose  from  his  donkey,  wiped 
his  sheath-knife  deliberately  on  his  pants,  put  it  away, 
and  then,  quietly  as  if  it  had  just  occurred  to  him, 

159 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

turned  to  the  raging  Conkey,  saying,  "  See  heer,  ma 
laddie,  A'al  mak'  y'  an  oafer.  A'al  fecht  ye.  If  ye 
gie  ma  a  lickin'  A'al  hae  naethin'  mair  tae  dae  wi'  the 
business ;  bud  if  Ah  lick  you,  A'al  dae  aal  Ah  can  tae 
get,  no  juist  the  day  aff,  but  a  guid  blow-out  o'  vittles 
in  the  bairgin,  altho'  Ah  misdoot  ma  muckle  ther's 
naethin'  aft  that  ye  cud  mak'  a  decent  meal  o'.  Hoo 
diz  that  shoot  ye  ?  " 

For  all  answer  Conkey,  breaking  away  from  those 
who  had  held  him,  sprang  at  Mac,  dealing,  as  he  came, 
two  blows,  right  and  left,  like  flashes.  Mac  did  not 
attempt  to  parry  them,  but  seemed  to  stoop  quietly ; 
and  suddenly  Conkey's  heels  banged  against  the  beam 
overhead.  Immediately  afterwards  there  came  the 
dull  thump  of  his  head  upon  the  floor.  Mac  just 
disengaged  himself,  and  stood  waiting  till  his  oppo- 
nent should  feel  able  or  willing  to  resume. 

Truly  the  latter's  head  must  have  been  as  thick  as 
his  courage  was  high,  for,  before  any  of  us  had  begun 
to  offer  assistance,  he  had  struggled  to  his  feet,  looking 
a  bit  dazed,  it  is  true,  but  evidently  as  full  of  fight  as 
ever.  He  had  learned  a  lesson,  however — that  caution 
in  dealing  with  his  sturdy  adversary  was  necessary, 
and  that  he  must  accommodate  his  undoubted  boxing 
powers  to  new  conditions. 

In  a  crouching  attitude,  and  with  tw^o  arms  held 
bow-wise  in  front,  he  moved  nearer  the  rugged, 
square-set  figure  of  the  Scotchman,  who,  as  before, 
stood  strictly  on  the  defensive.  There.was  a  feint  by 
Conkey — ^we  saw  Mac's  head  go  down  again — ^but  then 
came  a  sharp  thud  and  a  sw  inging,  sidelong  blow  from 

160 


Mac's  Experiment 


Conkey,  and  Mac  seemed  to  crumble  into  a  heap,  for, 
as  he  stooped  to  repeat  his  former  successful  grip, 
Conkey  had  shot  upward  his  right  knee  with  such 
force  that  Mac's  nose  was  a  red  ruin,  and  the  blow  on 
the  ear  from  Conkey's  left  could  have  done  Mac  very 
little  good.  So  far,  the  advantage  undoubtedly  lay 
with  the  Londoner,  but,  after  a  brief  spell,  Mac  pulled 
himself  together,  and  the  two  clinched  again.  Locked 
together  like  a  pair  of  cats,  except  that  they  neither 
bit,  scratched,  nor  made  a  sound,  they  writhed  all  over 
the  fo'c'sle  unable  to  strike,  but  so  equally  matched 
that  neither  could  loose  himself.  Had  they  been  alone, 
I  believe  only  death  would  have  parted  them;  but  at 
last,  in  sheer  admiration  for  the  doggedness  of  their 
pluck,  we  laid  hold  on  them  and  tore  them  apart,  de- 
claring that  two  such  champions  ought  to  be  firm 
friends.  As  soon  as  they  got  their  breath,  Conkey 
held  out  his  hand,  saying,  "  Scotty,  me  cock,  ye're  as 

good  a  man  as  me,  but  Hi'm hif  ye're  a  better.    If 

yer  think  y'are,  wy,  we'll  just  ply  the  bloomin'  'and 
art,  but  if  ye're  satisfied,  Hi  am."  Taking  the  prof- 
fered hand,  Scotty  replied,  "  Mahn,  A'am  no  thet  pe- 
tickler.  Ah  haena  a  pickle  o'  ambeeshun  tae  be  thocht 
a  better  mahn  than  ma  neebours,  neither  am  Ah  a 
godless  fule  that  henkers  aefther  fechtin'  for  fechtin's 
sake ;  but  as  ye  say,  we're  baith  's  guid  's  yin  anither, 
an*  there's  ma  han'  upo'  th*  maetter.  Ah  dinna  see  'at 
we're  ony  forrader  wi'  oor  bairgin  tho'." 

Then  a  regular  clamour  of  voices  arose,  all  saying 
the  same  thing,  viz.  that  the  heroes  should  "  pull 
sticks  " — that  is,  one  should  hold  two  splinters  of  wood 

i6i 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

concealed  in  his  hand  with  the  ends  just  protruding 
for  the  other  to  choose  from,  and  whichever  got  the 
shortest  piece  should  be  the  loser.  It  is  a  time-hon- 
oured fo'c'sle  way  of  settling  disputes  or  arranging 
watches. 

They  drew,  and  Scotty  won.  All  faces  fell  at  this, 
for  if  we  were  going  to  make  a  bold  bid  for  our  Christ' 
mas  privileges  we  needed  unity,  and  especially  we 
wanted  such  a  tough  nut  as  Jock  MacTavish  actively 
enlisted  on  our  side.  The  winner  lifted  our  gloom  by 
saying  quietly,  "  Sae  A'm  with  ye,  aefther  aal,  ut 
seems."  Then,  noting  the  surprise  on  our  faces,  he 
went  on,  "  What's  the  differ,  think  ye,  whether  Ah  win 
at  fechtin'  or  drawin'.  Ah  said  Ah'd  be  with  ye  if  Ah 
won,  sae  that's  a'  richt."  And,  easy  in  our  minds,  we 
separated,  the  watch  below  to  their  bunks,  and  the  rest 
to  their  stations. 

Morning  broke  in  glory,  such  a  day  as  we  see,  per- 
haps, two  of  during  a  year  in  our  hard,  grey  climate 
at  home.  After  wetting  down  the  decks  as  usual,  the 
mate  gave  the  order  to  turn-to  at  cleaning  the  try- 
works — a  step  which  brought  us  all  up  "  with  a  round 
turn,"  as  we  say.  Closing  together  we  faced  the 
amazed  officer,  and  Mac,  stepping  a  little  in  advance, 
said,  "  Div  ye  no  ken,  Maister  Winsloe,  'at  this  is  the 
day  o'  days  tae  all  true  Chreestyin'  men.  Suner  than 
Ah'd  dae  ae  ban's  turrn  on  Chrissmus  Day — except, 
af  coorse,  in  the  wye  o'  neceesary  seamen's  duties,  sic 
as  a  trick  at  the  wheel,  furrlin'  sail,  or  the  like — Ah'd 
gae  ashore  this  meenut !  " 

162 


The  skipper  produced  from  his  hip-pocket  a  revolver. 


Mac's  Experiment 

At  this  we  couldn't  help  chuckling,  for  the  nearest 
land  was  about  three  miles  beneath  our  keel,  vertically, 
and  at  least  a  thousand  horizontally.  But  the  mate 
was  like  Lot's  wife  after  she  looked  back.  The  thing 
was  outside  his  mental  dimension  altogether.  As  the 
real  significance  of  it  filtered  through,  his  eyes 
gleamed,  and,  with  a  yell  like  a  Pawnee,  he  leaped  for 
Scotty — ^and  missed  him;  for  Scotty  was  a  bom 
dodger,  and  had  an  eye  like  a  gull's.  The  officer's 
spring  carried  him  right  into  our  midst,  however ;  and, 
with  a  perfect  hurricane  of  bad  words,  he  struck  out 
right  and  left  as  if  we  were  the  usual  mixed  gang  of 
Dagoes,  Dutchmen,  and  Kanakas  he  had  been  used  to. 
Pluck  he  certainly  did  not  lack,  but  his  judgment  had 
turned  sour. 

In  a  minute  he  was  flat  on  deck  on  his  face,  with 
Conkey  sitting  on  his  head,  and  the  rest  of  us  were 
marching  aft  to  make  an  end  of  the  matter  with  the 
old  man.  He  reached  the  deck  from  below  just  as  we 
arrived;  and,  although  the  most  unusual  sight  might 
well  have  given  him  pause,  he  showed  no  sign  of  sur- 
prise. 

Advancing  to  meet  us,  he  said  quietly,  "  Well  ?  " 
Again  Mac  was  to  the  fore,  and,  facing  the  stately, 
impassive  figure  of  the  skipper,  he  said,  "  We've  juist 
daundert  aeft,  sir,  tae  wuss  ye  a  Murry  Chrismuss,  an' 
tae  thenk  ye  in  advance-like  for  the  bit  extry  vittles, 
an'  maybe  a  drap  o'  somethin'  cheerin'  tae  drink  ye're 
health  in  an  sic  an  ahspeeshus  occashin." 

For  an  answer  the  skipper  produced  from  his  hip- 
pocket  a  revolver,  which  he  pointed  straight  at  Scotty's 

163 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

head,  while  with  the  other  hand  he  made  a  comprehen- 
sive gesture,  which  we  obeyed  by  faUing  back  from 
that  dangerous  vicinity.  As  we  did  so,  there  was  a 
rioting  behind  us,  and  into  our  midst  burst  the  mate 
and  Conkey,  fiercely  struggling. 

In  a  moment  there  was  as  pretty  a  rough-and-tum- 
ble among  us  as  any  fighting-man  would  wish  to  see, 
for  the  harpooners  and  the  other  three  mates  had 
sprung  in  from  somewhere,  and  were  making  up  for 
lost  time  with  vigour. 

Apart  from  the  struggling  crowd  the  skipper  stood 
fingering  his  shooting-iron,  apparently  irresolute — in- 
deed, it  was  hard  to  decide  for  a  moment  what  to  do. 
Bloodshed  was  evidently  most  distasteful  to  him,  yet 
there  could  be  no  doubt  that  he  would  not  shrink  from 
it  if  necessary.  But  the  whole  afifair  was  so  grotesque, 
so  causeless,  that  he  was  undecided  how  to  deal  with 
it,  the  more  especially  as  his  officers  were  every  one 
mixed  inextricably  with  the  crew  in  a  writhing  mass. 

The  problem  was  solved  for  him  and  for  us  in  a 
most  unexpected  way.  In  the  midst  of  the  riot  there 
was  a  tremendous  shock,  as  if  the  Ursus  had  suddenly 
struck  a  rock  while  going  at  full  speed ;  but,  as  she  had 
barely  been  going  through  the  water  at  the  rate  of 
two  knots  an  hour,  that  was  an  impossible  explana- 
tion. The  concussion,  whatever  it  was,  flung  every 
man  to  the  deck,  and  in  one  moment  all  thoughts  were 
switched  ofT  the  conflict  with  one  another  and  on  to 
this  mysterious  danger.  All  hands  rushed  to  the  side 
and  looked  overboard,  to  see  the  blue  of  the  sea 
streaked  with  bands  of  blood,  while  not  twenty  feet 

164 


Mac's  Experiment 

away,  on  the  starboard  beam,  a  huge  sperm  whale  lay 
feebly  exhaling  breath  that  showed  redly  against  the 
blue  of  the  water.  Like  a  trumpet-blast  the  old  man's 
voice  rang  out,  "  Lower  'way  boats !  "  and  with  catlike 
celerity  every  man  flew  to  his  station,  the  falls  rattled, 
and  with  an  almost  simultaneous  splash  three  boats 
took  the  water. 

"  Hold  on,  starboard  bow  boat ! "  roared  the  old 
man  again,  seeing  that  there  was  no  need  of  it,  and 
taking  that  advantage  of  keeping  it  in  its  place  given 
him  by  the  third  mate  being  a  few  seconds  slower  than 
the  others  in  getting  away. 

Before  we  had  time  to  realize  what  a  change  had 
come  over  us  all,  we  were  furiously  assaulting  the  mon- 
ster, but  he  was  in  no  condition  to  retaliate.  Had  we 
left  him  alone,  he  must  have  died  in  a  few  minutes, 
for  protruding  from  the  side  of  his  massive  head  was 
a  jagged  piece  of  timber,  showing  white  and  splintered 
where  it  had  been  freshly  broken  away. 

We  had  little  time  to  speculate  upon  the  strange- 
ness of  the  occurrence,  for  suddenly  we  were  aware 
that  urgent  signals  were  being  made  from  the  ship; 
and,  leaving  one  boat  to  pass  the  fluke-line  ready  for 
hauling  our  prize  alongside,  the  other  two  sped  back 
to  the  ship.  Arriving  alongside,  we  clambered 
swiftly  on  board,  to  hear  the  skipper's  deep  voice  call- 
ing, "  Leave  the  boats  and  man  the  pumps !  "  A  cold 
shudder  ran  through  us  at  the  words,  for  in  a  moment 
all  knew  that  our  ship  had  received  a  deadly  blow 
from  the  wounded  whale,  and  that  it  was  a  portion  of 
her  that  we  had  seen  protruding  from  his  head.  And 
"  165 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

we  remembered  the  awful  loneliness  of  that  part  of 
the  Pacific,  far  away  from  the  track  of  all  ships  except 
an  occasional  whaler,  so  occasional  that  our  chances  of 
falling  in  with  one  was  infinitesimal. 

The  wind  fell  to  a  dead  calm.  There  was  not  a 
cloud  in  the  heavens,  and  the  sea  in  our  immediate 
vicinity  was  not  only  smooth,  but  silky,  from  the  slight 
oiliness  we  exuded,  so  that  looking  down  into  it  was 
almost  like  looking  up  at  the  sky.  After  the  first 
alarm  had  subsided  it  was  evident  that  we  could  have 
several  relays  at  the  pumps,  their  structure  not  admit- 
ting of  more  than  eight  men  working  conveniently  at 
one  time.  The  skipper  stood  by  with  the  sounding- 
rod,  waiting,  in  grim  silence,  to  see  whether  we  or  the 
leak  were  gaining,  when  Mac,  sidling  up  to  him,  made 
some  remark  that  we  could  not  hear.  The  skipper 
turned  to  him  and  nodded ;  and  immediately  we  saw 
our  pawky  shipmate  shedding  his  two  garments.  Next 
thing  we  knew  he  was  climbing  over  the  side,  and 
those  of  us  who  were  resting  mounted  the  rail  and 
watched  him.  I  have  seen  Kanakas  diving  for  pearl- 
shell,  and  Malays  diving  for  pearls,  but  never  an  olive- 
skinned  amphibian  of  them  all  could  have  held  a  candle 
to  Jock  MacTavish.  He  swam  about  under  the  ship's 
bottom,  examining  her  just  as  coolly  as  if  in  Lambeth 
Baths,  his  wide,  open  eyes  glaring  upward  through  the 
water  with  a  most  uncanny  look  in  them — like  the 
eyes  of  a  man  long  dead.  Suddenly  he  popped  up 
alongside,  not  at  all  distressed,  and,  wringing  the  water 
from  his  nose,  mounted  the  side  and  approached  the 
skipper. 

1 66 


Mac's  Experiment 

With  one  accord  the  clang  of  the  pumps  ceased  to 
hear  his  words,  for  we  felt  that  they  were  a  verdict  of 
life  or  death  for  all  of  us.  *'  She'll  be  a'  recht,  sir," 
said  he.  "  Ther's  a  muckle  hole  in  th'  garburd  straake, 
an'  aboot  twenty  fit  o'  the  fause  keel  awa' ;  bit  a  poke 
fu'  o'  shakins  '11  bung  it  up  brawly  wi'  a  len'th  o'  chain 
roond  her  tae  keep  it  in's  plaace."  The  pumping  was 
resumed  with  all  the  energy  of  hope  renewed,  while 
busy  hands  made  ready  a  bagful  of  soft  rope-yams  and 
got  up  a  spare  fluke-chain.  The  bag  was  made  fast  in 
the  bight  of  a  rope,  which,  weighted  with  a  lump  of 
sandstone  attached  by  a  slipping  lashing  of  spunyam, 
was  passed  under  her  bottom.  Again  Mac  went  over- 
board and  guided  the  plug  into  its  place. 

Then  the  chain  was  passed  round  her,  and  placed 
over  the  plug  by  Scotty.  On  deck  we  hove  it  taut,  and 
in  four  hours  we  had  sucked  her  out. 

Then  the  skipper  called  all  hands  aft,  and  said, 
"  Boys,  ye're  the  whitest  crowd  I've  ever  struck.  The 
best  dinner  I  k'n  scare  up  's  waitin'  for  ye,  'n  I've 
raided  the  medsun  chest  for  the  only  drop  of  licker 
thar  is  aboard.  I  don't  tech  fire-water  meself,  but  I'll 
wish  ye  a  Merry  Christmas  with  all  me  heart.  Ther's 
only  one  thing  I'd  like  t'  know;  an'  that  is,  haow  a 
Scotchman  comes  to  risk  his  life  for  a  Christmas  din- 
ner?" "  We'el,  cap'n,"  drawled  Mac,  " 'twus  juist  a 
wee  bit  seekoeloegical  expeerimunt." 

Time's  up ;  but  I  must  add  that  we  humoured  the 
old  barky  back  to  'Frisco — and  we  didn't  lose  that 
whale  either. 


167 


ON   THE   VERTEX 

Not  the  least  curious  to  the  uninitiated  of  the  ways 
by  which  shipmasters  navigate  their  vessels  over  the 
trackless  wastes  oi  ocean  is  that  known  to  the  navi- 
gator by  the  name  of  Great  Circle  Sailing.  Lest  the 
timid  reader  take  alarm  at  the  introduction  of  so  high- 
sounding  a  technical  term,  let  me  hasten  to  assure  him 
or  her  that  I  have  no  deep-laid  designs  upon  innocent 
happiness  by  imposing  a  trigonometrical  treatise  upon 
them  in  the  guise  of  an  amusing  or  interesting  story. 
To  such  baseness  I  cannot  stoop,  for  one  very  good 
reason  at  any  rate,  because  I  have  such  a  plentiful  lack 
of  trigonometry  myself.  Nevertheless,  I  do  think  that 
much  more  interest  might  be  taken  in  the  ways  of  our 
ships  and  their  crews  by  the  people  of  this  essentially 
maritime  nation  than  is  at  present  the  case  if,  in  the 
course  of  sea-story  telling,  the  narrators  were  not 
averse  to  giving  a  few  accurate  details  as  to  the  why 
and  how  of  nautical  proceedings. 

Having,  I  trust,  allayed  all  tremors  by  these  pre- 
liminary remarks,  let  me  go  on  to  say  that  while  all 
sane  civilized  persons  believe  this  earth  of  ours  to  be 
more  or  less  globular  in  shape,  it  probably  occurs  to 
but  few  that  the  shortest  distance  from  point  to  point 
on  a  globe  is   along  a  curve.    But  in  order  to  get  any 

169 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

substantial  gain  out  of  this  knowledge  in 'the  direction 
of  shortening  a  ship's  passage,  it  is  necessary  first  of  all 
to  have  a  considerable  stretch  of  sea  whereon  to  draw 
your  curve,  which  is  after  all  a  straight  line,  since  it  is 
the  shortest  distance  between  two  points.  Even  the 
fine  open  ocean  between  England  and  America  is  hardly 
sufficient  to  induce  navigators  to  make  use  of  Great 
Circle  Sailing  on  outward  or  homeward  passages,  the 
gain  being  so  small.  When,  however,  the  captain  of 
an  outward  bound  ship  has  wriggled  through  the  baf- 
fling belt  of  hesitating  winds  that  have  hindered  his 
progress  southward  from  the  equator  to  Cape,  and 
begins  to  look  for  the  coming  of  the  brave  westerly 
gales  that  shall  send  him  flying  before  them  to  Aus- 
tralia or  New  Zealand,  an  opportunity  occurs  as  in 
no  other  part  of  the  world  for  putting  the  pretty  Great 
Circle  theory  into  practice. 

It  may  be  necessary  to  remind  the  reader  that 
Great  Circles  are  those  which  divide  a  globe  into  two 
equal  parts,  such  as  the  equator  and  the  meridians.  If, 
then,  the  navigator  at  Cape  in  South  America  draws  a 
thread  tightly  on  a  terrestrial  globe  between  that  point 
and,  say,  the  south-east  cape  of  Tasmania,  the  line  it 
describes  will  be  the  arc  of  a  Great  Circle,  and  conse- 
quently the  shortest  distance  between  the  two  places. 
But  when  he  comes  to  lay  down  the  track  which  that 
thread  has  described  upon  his  Mercator  chart  he  finds 
that,  instead  of  steering  almost  a  straight  course  be- 
tween the  two  places,  he  must  describe  a  huge  curve, 
with  its  vertex  or  highest  southerly  point  well  within 
the  Antarctic  circle.      Now,  no  sane  seaman  would 

170 


On  the  Vertex 

dream  of  seeking  such  a  latitude  upon  any  voyage  but 
one  of  exploration,  since  it  is  well  known  what  kind  of 
weather  awaits  the  unfortunate  mariner  there.  But, 
without  saying  that  Captain  Jellico  was  a  lunatic,  it  is 
necessary  to  remark  that  he  was  no  ordinary  shipmas- 
ter, and  those  who  knew  him  best  often  prophesied  that 
one  day  his  persistent  pursuit  of  hobbies  and  fads 
would  involve  him  and  all  his  unfortunate  crew  in 
some  extraordinary  disaster. 

On  the  present  voyage  he  commanded  an  ancient 
teak  built  barque  that  had  long  ago  seen  her  best 
days,  and  was,  besides,  so  slow  that  any  of  the  ordi- 
nary methods  of  economizing  time  were  a  ridiculous 
waste  of  energy  when  applied  to  her.  Of  course,  she 
carried  stunsails,  those  infernal  auxiliaries  that  are  or 
were  responsible  for  more  sin  on  board  ship  than  any 
other  invention  of  man.  She  was  bound  to  Auckland, 
and  by  the  time  she  had  waddled  as  far  south  as  Cape 
had  already  consumed  as  many  days  as  a  smart  clip- 
per ship  would  have  needed  to  do  the  whole  passage. 
Yet  Captain  Jellico  was  so  proud  of  the  ugly  old  tub 
(bathing  machine,  the  men  called  her),  principally  be- 
cause he  was  half-owner  of  her,  that  he  was  perfectly 
blind  to  her  slothful  and  unhandy  qualities.  Day  by 
day  he  held  forth  to  his  disgusted  mate  upon  the 
beauty  of  the  Great  Circle  problem,  and  the  desira- 
bility of  putting  it  into  practice,  announcing  his  firm 
intention  of  carrying  it  out  in  its  entirety  this  trip.  He 
wasn't  going  to  piffle  with  any  "  composite  "  Great 
Circle  track,  not  he.  Half-hearted  seamen  might 
choose  to  follow  the  great  curve  down  as  far  as  50°  S. 

171 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

or  so,  and  then  shirk  the  whole  business  by  steering 
due  east  for  a  couple  of  thousand  miles,  but  he  would 
do  the  trick  properly,  and  touch  the  vertex,  unless, 
indeed,  it  happened  to  be  on  the  mainland  of  Antarc- 
tica. After  an  hour  or  two  of  this  sort  of  talk  the  mate 
would  go  on  deck  feeling  mighty  sick,  and  muttering 
fervent  prayers  that  his  commander  would  meet  with 
some  entirely  disabling  accident  soon,  one  that  would 
effectually  hinder  him  from  carrying  out  his  oft-re- 
iterated intention.  But  no  such  answer  was  afforded 
to  Mr.  Marline's  impious  aspirations.  The  steadfast 
westerly  wind  began  as  usual,  and  the  clumsy  old 
Chanticleer,  under  every  rag  of  canvas,  stunsails  and 
all,  began  to  plunder  along  that  hateful  curve,  steer- 
ing about  south-east  by  south.  Gradually  the  wind 
strengthened,  until,  much  to  the  delight  of  the  scanty 
crew,  the  fluttering  rags  that  hung  precariously  at  the 
yard-arms  were  taken  in  and  stowed  snugly  away,  the 
booms  and  irons  were  sent  down  from  aloft,  and  lashed 
along  the  scuppers  with  the  spare  spars  and  stunsail 
carrying,  for  that  passage,  at  any  rate,  became  only  a 
wretched  memory.  Sterner  and  stronger  blew  the 
wind  as  day  succeeded  day  and  higher  latitudes  were 
successively  reached,  until,  although  it  was  the  Ant- 
arctic summer,  all  hands  were  wearing  nearly  every 
garment  they  possessed  in  the  vain  endeavour  to  keep 
a  little  warmth  in  their  thin  blood. 

One  topic  now  overlaid  every  other  in  the  endless 
causeries  that  were  held  in  the  gloomy  den  where  the 
sailors  lived.  It  was  the  course  steered.  The  posi- 
tion of  the  ship  is  always  more  or  less  a  matter  of  con- 

172 


On  the  Vertex 

jecture  to  the  men  forward,  except  when  some  well- 
known  island  or  headland  is  sighted,  but  all  sailors  are 
able  to  judge  fairly  well  from  the  courses  steered  what 
track  is  being  made,  and  the  present  persistence  in  a 
southerly  direction  was  disquieting  in  the  extreme  to 
them  all.  The  weather  worsened  every  day,  and  oc- 
casional icebergs  showed  their  awful  slopes  through 
the  surrounding  greyness,  making  every  man  strain 
his  eyes  when  on  the  look-out  or  at  the  wheel  in  pain- 
ful anxiety  lest  the  ship  should  suddenly  come  full  tilt 
upon  one  of  them,  A  deep  discontent  was  heavy  upon 
the  heart  of  every  member  of  the  crew,  with  the  sole 
exception  of  the  skipper.  Snugly  wrapped  in  a  huge 
fur-lined  jacket,  and  with  an  eared  sealskin  cap  drawn 
down  over  his  ears,  he  paced  the  poop  jauntily,  as 
merry  as  Father  Christmas,  and  utterly  oblivious  of 
everything  and  everybody  but  the  grand  way  in  which 
he  was  following  up  his  Great  Circle.  At  last,  when  a 
dull  settled  misery  seemed  to  have  loaded  all  hands  so 
that  they  appeared  to  have  lost  the  heart  even  to  growl, 
a  dense  mist  settled  fatefully  down  upon  the  ship,  a 
white  pall  that  was  not  dispelled  again  by  the  strong, 
bitter  wind.  The  skipper  hardly  ever  left  the  deck, 
but  his  almost  sleepless  vigilance  had  no  effect  upon 
his  high  spirits.  Suddenly  at  mid-day,  when  by  dead 
reckoning  he  was  within  a  day's  sail  of  the  vertex,  the 
sea,  which  had  been  running  in  mountainous  masses 
for  weeks  past,  occasionally  breaking  over  all  and 
seething  about  the  sodden  decks,  became  strangely 
smooth  and  quiet,  although  the  wind  still  howled  be- 
hind them.     Such  a  change  sent  a  thrill  of  terrible 

173 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

dread  through  every  heart.  Even  th^  skipper,  with  all 
his  stubborn  fortitude,  looked  troubled,  and  faltered  in 
his  unresting  tramp  fore  and  aft  the  poop.  Then 
gradually  the  wind  failed  until  it  was  almost  calm,  and 
the  enshrouding  mist  closed  down  upon  the  ship  so 
densely  that  it  was  hardly  possible  to  see  a  fathom's 
length  away.  The  silence  became  oppressive,  all  the 
more  so  because  underlying  it  there  was  the  merest 
suggestion  of  a  sound  that  always  has  a  fateful  sig- 
nificance for  the  mariner,  the  hoarse,  unsatisfied  mur- 
mur of  the  sea  sullenly  beating  against  an  immovable 
barrier.  And  thus  they  waited  and  endured  all  the 
agony  and  suspense  born  of  ignorance  of  the  dangers 
that  they  knew  must  surround  them,  and  utter  incapa- 
bility to  do  anything  whatever.  Full  thirty-six  hours 
crept  leaden-footed  away  before  there  came  any  light- 
ening of  their  darkness.  Then  gradually  the  rolling 
wreaths  of  mist  melted  away  and  revealed  to  them 
their  position.  At  first  they  could  hardly  credit  the 
evidence  of  their  senses,  believing  that  what  they  saw 
hemming  them  in  on  every  side  was  but  the  reluc- 
tant fog  taking  on  fantastic  shapes  of  mountain,  val- 
ley, and  plateau.  But  when  at  last  the  wintry  sun 
gleamed  palely,  and  they  could  discern  the  little  surf 
glittering  against  the  bases  of  the  ice-cliflfs,  all  elusive 
hopes  fled,  and  they  became  fully  aware  of  their  hor- 
rible position.  The  vessel  lay  motionless  in  a  blue 
lake  bounded  on  every  side  by  white  walls  of  ice,  the 
snowy  glare  of  their  cliflfs  contrasting  curiously  with 
the  deep  blue  of  the  sea.  Some  of  the  peaks  soared  to 
a  height  of  over  one  thousand  feet,  others  again  rose 

174 


On  the  Vertex 

sheer  from  the  water  for  several  hundreds  of  feet,  and 
then  terminated  in  flat  table-Hke  summits  of  vast  area. 
But  all  were  alike  in  their  grim  lifelessness.  They 
looked  as  if  they  had  thus  existed  for  ages ;  it  was  im- 
possible to  imagine  any  change  in  their  terrible 
solidity. 

After  the  first  shock  of  the  discovery  had  passed, 
the  relief  that  always  comes  from  knowing  the  worst 
calne  to  them,  and  they  began  to  speculate  upon  the 
manner  in  which  they  could  have  entered  this  appar- 
ently ice-locked  lake.  Presently  the  skipper,  in  a 
strangely  altered  voice,  ordered  the  long  boat  to  be 
got  out,  a  task  of  great  difficulty,  since,  as  in  most 
vessels  of  the  Chanticleer's  class,  the  long  boat  was, 
besides  being  hampered  up  by  a  miscellaneous  col- 
lection of  all  the  rubbish  in  the  ship,  secured  as  if  she 
was  never  intended  to  be  used  under  any  circum- 
stances. But  the  tough  job  gave  the  hands  something 
to  take  their  minds  oflf  their  unhappy  position,  while 
the  exertion  kept  off  the  icy  chill  of  their  surroundings. 
When  at  last  the  boat  was  in  the  water,  although  she 
was  so  leaky  that  one  man  was  kept  constantly  baling, 
the  skipper  entered  her,  and,  with  four  oarsmen, 
started  to  explore  their  prison.  With  the  utmost  cau- 
tion, they  surveyed  every  fathom  of  the  sea  line,  no 
detail  of  the  ice-barrier  escaping  their  anguished  scru- 
tiny ;  but  when  at  last,  after  six  hours'  absence,  they 
returned  on  board,  they  had  been  unable  to  discover 
the  slightest  vestige  of  a  passage,  no,  not  so  much  as 
would  admit  their  boat.  The  only  conclusion  that 
could  be  arrived  at  was  that  they  had  passed  in  through 

175 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

the  opening  of  a  horseshoe-shaped  berg  of  enormous 
area,  and  that  another  smaller  berg  had  drifted  in 
after  them  and  turned  over  in  the  channel,  effectually 
closing  it  against  their  return.  Slowly  and  sadly  they 
had  returned  to  the  ship,  the  skipper  looking  heart- 
broken at  this  tragic  termination  to  his  enthusiastic 
scheme  of  navigation.  After  ascertaining  his  position 
by  means  of  an  artificial  horizon,  he  called  all  hands 
aft,  and  thus  addressed  them,  "  Men,  we'm  all  fellow- 
sufferers  now,  I  reckon,  and  the  only  thing  to  do  'es 
to  wait  God's  good  time  for  lettin'  us  get  out.  I 
find  we'm  in  6i°  S.,  50°  E.,  and  I  reckon  our  only 
hope  lies  in  the  fact  that  this  can't  be  no  shore  ice ; 
it  must  be  a  floatin'  berg,  ef  'tes  a  most  amazin'  big 
un.  Consequently  it  must  be  a  driftin'  to  the  norrard 
a  little ;  they  all  do,  and  sooner  or  later  the  sun  '11 
melt  us  out.  One  good  job,  we  got  'nough  pervisions 
in  the  cargo  ter  las'  us  six  years,  an'  as  for  water,  well, 
I  reckon  there's  more  fresh  water  froze  around  us  than 
all  the  ships  in  the  world  'ud  ever  want.  So  we'll  just 
take  care  of  ourselves,  try  an'  keep  alive,  'n  look  after 
the  old  barky,  for  we  shall  certinly  sail  away  in  her 
yet."  His  speech  was  received  in  silence,  but  all  hands 
looked  brighter  and  happier  than  they  had  done  for 
a  long  time.  They  towed  the  vessel  into  a  sort  of  cove, 
and  moored  her  firmly  with  kedges  and  hawsers  to 
the  ice,  then  turned  their  attention  to  the  invention  of 
all  sorts  of  expedients  for  preventing  the  time  hanging 
too  heavily.  Better  feeding  became  the  order  of  the 
day,  for  the  old  man  at  once  drew  upon  the  cargo, 
which  included  an  immense  assortment  of  preserved 

176 


On  the  Vertex 

food  of  the  best  brands,  as  well  as  many  luxuries. 
And  every  day  there  was  a  slight  change  in  the  posi- 
tion, showing  that,  as  the  skipper  had  said,  the  whole 
body  of  ice  was  drifting  north  as  well  as  east.  So  un- 
eventfully and  tediously  two  months  passed  away,  leav- 
ing everything  pretty  much  the  same,  except  that  the 
skipper  seemed  to  have  aged  ten  years. 

Then  one  afternoon,  when  the  enwrapped  mist  was 
so  thick  that  even  the  deck  beneath  their  feet  was 
scarcely  visible,  there  came  a  tremendous  crash  that 
made  the  old  vessel  quiver  from  keel  to  truck.  It 
was  followed  by  loud  splashes  as  of  falling  blocks  of 
ice,  and  strange  sounds  that  resembled  human  voices. 
Presently  the  fog  lifted,  and  revealed  a  great  gap  in 
the  ice- wall  just  ahead  of  the  vessel,  and  on  one  side 
of  its  cliffs  the  wreck  of  a  splendid  ship,  whose  crew 
were  huddled  upon  the  precipitous  crags  of  the  berg. 
The  sight  sent  all  hands  into  frantic  activity  on  the 
instant.  Toiling  like  giants,  they  rescued  all  the  nearly 
frozen  men,  who  were  in  such  evil  case  that  they  could 
hardly  ask  whence  their  rescuers  had  come,  and  then, 
as  if  incapable  of  fatigue,  they  strained  every  ounce  of 
strength  they  possessed  to  warp  their  long-imprisoned 
ship  out  of  that  terrible  dock.  Once  escaped,  it  is  hard- 
ly necessary  to  say  that  Captain  Jellico  lost  no  time  in 
getting  north  and  running  his  easting  down  upon  a 
parallel  of  42°  S.  Great  Circle  Sailing  had  lost  all  its 
charms  for  him.  And  in  due  time  the  Chanticleer  ar- 
rived at  Auckland,  two  hundred  and  forty-six  days  out 
from  home,  with  all  her  passengers  and  crew  in  the 
best  of  health  and  mutually  pleased  with  each  other. 

177 


A   MONARCH'S    FALL 

Glorious  in  all  his  splendid  majesty,  the  great  sun 
issued  forth  of  his  chamber,  and  all  the  wide  sea  basked 
in  his  beams  with  a  million  million  smiles.  Save  the 
sea  and  the  sun  and  the  sky,  there  was  nought  appar- 
ently existing — it  might  well  have  been  the  birthday  of 
Light.  Also  the  one  prevailing  characteristic  of  the 
scene  to  a  human  eye,  had  one  been  there  to  see,  was 
peace — perfect  stainless  peace.  But  we  are,  by  the 
very  fact  of  our  organization,  true  impressionists,  and 
only  by  a  severe  course  of  training,  voluntary  or  other- 
wise, do  we  realize  aught  but  the  present  fact,  the  past 
is  all  forgotten,  the  future  all  unknown.  So  it  was 
here,  beneath  that  sea  of  smiling  placid  beauty  a  war 
of  unending  ferocity  was  being  waged,  truceless,  mer- 
ciless ;  for  unto  the  victors  belong  the  spoils,  and  with- 
out them  they  must  perish — there  was  none  other  food 
to  be  gotten. 

But  besides  all  this  ruthless  warfare  carried  on  in- 
evitably because  without  it  all  must  die  of  hunger, 
there  were  other  causes  of  conflict,  matters  of  high 
policy  and  more  intricate  motive  than  just  the  blind 
all-compelling  pressure  of  hunger.  The  glowing  sur- 
face of  that  morning  sea  was  suddenly  disturbed  simul- 
taneously at  many  points,  and  like  ascending  incense 

179 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

the  bushy  breathings  of  some  scores  of  whales  became 
visible.  Perfectly  at  their  ease  since  their  instincts  as- 
sured them  that  from  this  silent  sea  their  only  enemy 
was  absent,  they  lay  in  unstudied  grace  about  the  spar- 
kling waters,  the  cows  and  youngsters  gambolling  hap- 
pily together  in  perfect  freedom  from  care.  Hither  they 
had  come  from  one  of  their  richest  feeding-grounds, 
where  all  had  laid  in  a  stock  of  energy  sufficient  to 
carry  them  half  round  the  globe  without  weariness. 
So  they  were  fat  with  a  great  richness,  strong  with  in- 
calculable strength,  and  because  of  these  things  they 
were  now  about  to  settle  a  most  momentous  question. 
Apart  from  the  main  gathering  of  females  and  calves 
by  the  space  of  about  a  mile  lay  five  individuals,  who, 
from  their  enormous  superiority  in  size,  no  less  than 
the  staid  gravity  of  their  demeanour,  were  evidently 
the  adult  males  of  the  school.  They  lay  almost  mo- 
tionless in  the  figure  of  a  baseless  triangle  whereof  the 
apex  was  a  magnificent  bull  over  seventy  feet  in  length, 
with  a  back  like  some  keelless  ship  bottom  up,  and  a 
head  huge  and  square  as  a  railway  car.  He  it  was  who 
first  broke  the  stillness  that  reigned.  Slowly  raising 
his  awful  front  with  its  down-hanging,  twenty-foot 
lower  jaw  exposing  two  gleaming  rows  of  curved 
teeth,  he  said,  "  Children,  ye  have  chosen  the  time  and 
the  place  for  your  impeachment  of  my  overlordship, 
and  I  am  ready.  Well,  I  wot  that  ye  do  but  as  our 
changeless  laws  decree,  that  the  choice  of  your  actions 
rests  not  with  yourselves,  that  although  ye  feel  lords 
of  yourselves  and  desirous  of  ruling  all  your  fellows,  it 
is  but  under  the  compelling  pressure  of  our  hereditary 

i8o 


A  Monarch's  Fall 

instincts.  Yet  remember,  I  pray  you,  before  ye  com- 
bine to  drive  me  from  among  ye,  for  how  many  genera- 
tions I  have  led  the  school,  how  wisely  I  have  chosen 
our  paths,  so  that  we  are  still  an  unbroken  family  as 
we  have  been  for  more  than  a  hundred  seasons.  And 
if  ye  must  bring  your  powers  to  test  now,  remember, 
too,  that  I  am  no  weakling,  no  dotard  weary  of  rule, 
but  mightiest  among  all  our  people,  conqueror  in  more 
than  a  thousand  battles,  wise  with  the  accumulated 
knowledge  of  a  hundred  generations  of  monarchy. 
Certainly  the  day  of  my  displacement  must  come ;  who 
should  know  that  better  than  I  ?  but  methinks  it  has 
not  yet  dawned,  and  I  would  not  have  ye  lightly  pit 
your  immature  strength  against  mine,  courting  inevi- 
table destruction.  Ponder  well  my  words,  for  I  have 
spoken." 

A  solemn  hush  ensued,  just  emphasized  by  the 
slumbrous  sound  of  the  sparkling  wavelets  lapping 
those  mighty  forms  as  they  lay  all  motionless  and  ap- 
parently inert.  Yet  it  had  been  easy  to  see  how  along 
each  bastion  like  flank  the  rolling  tendons,  each  one 
a  cable  in  itself,  were  tense  and  ready  for  instantaneous 
action,  how  the  great  muscle  mounds  were  hardened 
around  the  gigantic  masses  of  bone,  and  the  flukes, 
each  some  hundred  feet  in  area,  did  not  yield  to  the 
heaving  bosom  of  the  swell,  but  showed  an  almost 
imperceptible  vibration  as  of  a  fucus  frond  in  a  tide  rip. 
After  a  perfect  silence  of  some  fifteen  minutes  an  an- 
swer came — from  the  youngest  of  the  group,  who  lay 
remote  from  the  chief.  "  We  have  heard,  O  king,  the 
words  of  wisdom,  and  our  hearts  rejoice.  Truly  we 
'3  181 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

have  been  of  the  fortunate  in  this  goodly  realm,  and 
ingrates  indeed  should  we  be  had  our  training  under  so 
terrible  a  champion  been  wasted  upon  us.  But  there- 
fore it  is  that  we  would  forestall  the  shame  that  should 
overtake  us  did  we  wait  until  thy  forces  had  waned  and 
that  all-conquering  might  had  dwindled  into  dotage 
ere  we  essayed  to  put  thy  teaching  into  practice.  Since 
thy  deposition  from  this  proud  place  must  be,  to  whose 
forces  could'st  thou  more  honourably  yield  than  to 
ours,  the  young  warriors  who  have  learned  of  thee  all 
we  know,  and  who  will  carry  on  the  magnificent  tradi- 
tions thou  hast  handed  down  to  us  in  a  manner  worthy 
of  our  splendid  sire !  And  if  we  be  slain,  as  well  may 
be,  remembering  with  whom  we  do  battle,  the  greater 
our  glory,  the  greater  thine  also." 

A  deep  murmur  like  the  bursting  of  a  tidal  wave 
against  the  sea-worn  lava  rocks  of  Ascension  marked 
the  satisfaction  of  the  group  at  this  exposition  of  their 
views,  and  as  if  actuated  by  one  set  of  nerves  the 
colossal  four  swung  round  shoulder  to  shoulder,  and 
faced  the  ocean  monarch.  Moving  not  by  a  barnacle's 
breadth,  he  answered,  "  It  is  well  spoken,  oh  my  chil- 
dren, ye  are  wiser  than  I.  And  be  the  issue  what  it 
will,  all  shall  know  that  the  royal  race  still  holds.  As 
in  the  days  when  our  fathers  met  and  slew  the  slimy 
dragons  of  the  pit,  and,  unscared  by  fathom-long  claws 
or  ten-ply  coats  of  mail,  dashed  them  in  pieces  and 
chased  them  from  the  blue  deep  they  befouled,  so 
to-day  when  the  world  has  grown  old,  and  our  ancient 
heritage  has  sorely  shrunken,  our  warfare  shall  still  be 
the  mightiest  among  created  things." 

182 


A  Monarch's   Fall 

Hardly  had  the  leviathan  uttered  the  last  word 
when,  with  a  roar  like  Niagara  bursting  its  bonds  in 
spring,  he  hurled  his  vast  bulk  headlong  upon  the  close 
gathered  band  of  his  huge  offspring.  His  body  was 
like  a  bent  bow,  and  its  recoil  tore  the  amazed  sea  into 
deep  whirls  and  eddies  as  if  an  island  had  foundered. 
Full  upon  the  foremost  one  he  fell,  and  deep  answered 
unto  deep  with  the  impact.  That  awful  blow  dashed 
its  recipient  far  into  the  soundless  depths  while  the 
champion  sped  swiftly  for^vard  on  his  course,  unable  to 
turn  until  his  impetus  was  somewhat  spent.  Before  he 
could  again  face  his  foes,  the  three  were  upon  him, 
smiting  with  Titanic  fluke  strokes,  circling  beneath 
him  with  intent  to  catch  the  down-hanging  shaft  of 
his  lower  jaw,  rising  swiftly  end  on  beneath  the  broad 
spread  of  his  belly,  leaping  high  into  the  bright  air 
and  falling  flatlings  upon  his  wide  back.  The  tor- 
mented sea  foamed  and  hissed  in  angry  protest, 
screaming  sea-birds  circled  low  around  the  conflict, 
ravening  sharks  gathered  from  unknown  distances, 
scenting  blood,  and  all  the  countless  tribes  of  ocean 
waited  aghast.  But  after  the  first  red  fury  had  passed 
came  the  wariness,  came  the  fruitage  of  all  those  years 
of  training,  all  the  accumulated  instincts  of  ages  to 
supplement  blind  brutal  force  with  deep  laid  schemes 
of  attack  and  defence.  As  yet  the  three  survivors  were 
but  slightly  injured,  for  they  had  so  divided  their  at- 
tack even  in  that  first  great  onset,  that  the  old  warrior 
could  not  safely  single  out  one  for  destruction.  Now 
the  youngest,  the  spokesman,  glided  to  the  front  of 
his  brethren,  and  faced  his  waiting  sire — 

183 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

"  What !  so  soon  weary.  Thou  art  older  than  we 
thought.  Truly  this  battle  hath  been  delayed  too  long. 
We  looked  for  a  fight  that  should  be  remembered  for 
many  generations,  and  behold "  Out  of  the  cor- 
ner of  his  eye  he  saw  the  foam  circles  rise  as  the  vast 
tail  of  the  chief  curved  inward  for  the  spring,  and  he, 
the  scorner,  launched  himself  backwards  a  hundred 
fathoms  at  a  bound.  After  him,  leaping  like  any  sal- 
mon in  a  spate,  came  the  terrible  old  warrior,  the  smit- 
ten waves  boiling  around  him  as  he  dashed  them  aside 
in  his  tremendous  pursuit.  But  herein  the  pursued 
had  the  advantage,  for  it  is  a  peculiarity  of  the  sperm 
whale  that  while  he  cannot  see  before  him,  his  best 
arc  of  vision  is  right  astern.  So  that  the  pursuer  must 
needs  be  guided  by  sound  and  the  feel  of  the  water,  and 
the  very  vigour  of  his  chase  was  telling  far  more  upon 
his  vast  bulk  than  upon  the  lither  form  of  his  flying 
enemy.  In  this  matter  the  monarch's  wisdom  was  of 
no  avail,  for  experience  could  not  tell  him  how  ad- 
vancing age  handicaps  the  strongest,  and  he  wondered 
to  find  a  numbness  creeping  along  his  spine — to  feel 
that  he  was  growing  weary.  And  suddenly,  with  an 
eel-like  movement  the  pursued  one  described  a  circle 
beneath  the  water,  rising  swift  as  a  dolphin  springs 
towards  his  pursuer,  and  dashing  at  the  dangling, 
gleaming  jaw.  These  two  great  balks  of  jaw  met  in 
clashing  contact,  breaking  off  a  dozen  or  so  of  the 
huge  teeth,  and  ripping  eight  or  ten  feet  of  the  gristly 
muscle  from  the  throat  of  the  aggressor.  But  hardly 
had  they  swung  clear  of  each  other  than  the  other  two 
were  fresh  upon  the  scene,  and  while  the  youngest 

184 


A  Monarch's  Fall 

one  rested,  they  effectually  combined  to  prevent  their 
fast-weakening  foe  from  rising  to  breathe.  No  need 
now  for  them  to  do  more,  for  the  late  enormous  expen- 
diture of  force  had  so  drained  his  vast  body  of  its 
prime  necessity  that  the  issue  of  the  fight  was  but  a 
question  of  minutes.  Yet  still  he  fought  gallantly, 
though  with  lungs  utterly  empty — all  the  rushing  tor- 
rent of  his  blood  growing  fetid  for  lack  of  vitalising 
air.  At  last,  with  a  roar  as  of  a  cyclone  through  his 
head,  he  turned  on  his  side  and  yielded  to  his  trium- 
phant conquerors,  who  drew  off  and  allowed  him  to 
rise  limply  to  the  now  quiet  sea-surface.  For  more 
than  an  hour  he  lay  there  prone,  enduring  all  the  agony 
of  his  overthrow,  and  seeing  far  before  him  the  long, 
lonely  vista  of  his  solitary  wanderings,  a  lone  whale 
driven  from  his  own,  and  nevermore  to  rule  again. 

Meanwhile  the  three  had  departed  in  search  of  their 
brother,  smitten  so  felly  early  in  the  fight  that  he  had 
not  since  joined  them.  When  they  found  that  which 
had  been  him  it  was  the  centre  of  an  innumerable  host 
of  hungry  things  that  fied  to  air  or  sea-depths  at  their 
approach.  A  glance  revealed  the  manner  of  his  end — 
a  broken  back,  while  already,  such  had  been  the  energy 
of  the  smaller  sea  people,  the  great  framework  of  his 
ribs  was  partly  laid  bare.  They  made  no  regrets,  for 
the  doing  of  useless  things  finds  no  place  in  their 
scheme  of  things.    Then  the  younger  said — 

"  So  the  question  of  overlordship  lies  between  us 
three,  and  I  am  unwilling  that  it  should  await  settle- 
ment. /  claim  the  leadership,  and  am  prepared  here 
and  now  to  maintain  my  right." 

185 


A 


Ik 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

This  bold  assertion  had  its  effect  upon  the  two 
hearers,  who,  after  a  long  pause,  replied — 

"  We  accept,  O  king,  fully  and  freely,  until  the  next 
battle-day  arrives,  when  the  succession  must  be  main- 
tained by  thee  in  ancient  form." 

So  the  matter  was  settled,  and  proudly  the  young 
monarch  set  off  to  rejoin  the  waiting  school.  Into 
their  midst  he  glided  with  an  air  of  conscious  majesty, 
pausing  in  the  centre  to  receive  the  homage  and  affec- 
tionate caresses  of  the  harem.  No  questions  were 
asked  as  to  the  whereabouts  of  the  deposed  sovereign, 
nor  as  to  what  had  become  of  the  missing  member  of 
the  brotherhood.  These  are  things  that  do  not  disturb 
the  whale-people,  who  in  truth  have  a  sufficiency  of 
other  matters  to  occupy  their  thoughts  besides  those 
inevitable  changes  that  belong  to  the  settled  order  of 
things.  The  recognition  complete,  the  new  leader 
glided  out  from  the  midst  of  his  people,  and  pointing 
his  massive  front  to  the  westward  moved  off  at  a 
stately  pace,  on  a  straight  course  for  the  coast  of  Japan. 

Long,  long  lay  the  defeated  one,  motionless  and 
alone.  His  exertions  had  been  so  tremendous  that 
every  vast  muscle  band  seemed  strained  beyond  re- 
covery, while  the  torrent  of  his  blood,  befouled  by  his 
long  enforced  stay  beneath  the  sea,  did  not  readily 
regain  its  normally  healthful  flow.  But  on  the  second 
day  he  roused  himself,  and  raising  his  mighty  head 
swept  the  unbroken  circle  of  the  horizon  to  satisfy  him- 
self that  he  was  indeed  at  last  a  lone  whale.  Ending 
his  earnest  scrutiny  he  milled  round  to  the  southward 
and  with  set  purpose  and  steady  fluke-beat  started  for 

1 86 


A  Monarch's  Fall 

the  Aucklands.  On  his  journey  he  passed  many  a 
school  or  smaller  "  pod  "  of  his  kind,  but  in  some 
mysterious  manner  the  seal  of  his  loneliness  was  set 
upon  him,  so  that  he  was  shunned  by  all.  In  ten  days 
he  reached  his  objective,  ten  days  of  fasting,  and  im- 
pelled by  fierce  hunger  ventured  in  closely  to  the 
cliffs,  where  great  shoals  of  fish,  many  seals,  with  an 
occasional  porpoise,  came  gaily  careering  down  the 
wide-gaping  white  tunnel  of  his  throat  into  the  inner 
darkness  of  dissolution.  It  was  good  to  be  here,  pleas- 
ant to  feel  once  more  that  unquestioned  superiority 
over  all  things,  and  swiftly  the  remembrance  of  his  fall 
faded  from  the  monster's  mind.  By  day  he  wandered 
lazily,  enjoying  the  constant  easy  procession  of  living 
food  down  his  ever-open  gullet ;  by  night  he  wallowed 
sleepily  in  the  surf-torn  margin  of  those  jagged  reefs. 
And  thus  he  came  to  enjoy  the  new  phase  of  existence, 
until  one  day  he  rose  slowly  from  a  favourite  reef- 
patch  to  feel  a  sharp  pang  shoot  through  his  wide 
flank.  Startled  into  sudden,  violent  activity,  he 
plunged  madly  around  in  the  confined  area  of  the  cove 
wherein  he  lay  in  the  vain  endeavour  to  rid  himself  of 
the  smart.  But  he  had  been  taken  at  a  disadvantage, 
for  in  such  shallow  waters  there  was  no  room  to 
manoeuvre  his  vast  bulk,  and  his  wary  assailants  felt 
that  in  spite  of  his  undoubted  vigour  and  ferocity  he 
would  be  an  easy  prey.  But  suddenly  he  headed  in- 
stinctively for  the  open  sea  at  such  tremendous  speed 
that  the  two  boats  attached  to  him  were  but  as  chips 
behind  him.  He  reached  the  harbour's  mouth,  and 
bending,  swiftly  sought  the  depths.    Unfortunately  for 

187 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

him  a  huge  pinnacle  of  rock  rose  sheer  from  the  sea 
bed  some  hundred  fathoms  below,  and  upon  this  he 
hurled  himself  headlong  with  such  fearful  force  that 
his  massive  neck  was  broken.  And  next  day  a  weary 
company  of  men  were  toiling  painfully  to  strip  from 
his  body  its  great  accumulation  of  valuable  oil,  and  his 
long  career  was  ended. 


188 


THE   CHUMS 

What  a  depth  of  mystery  is  concealed  in  the  phe- 
nomena of  likes  and  dislikes  I  Why,  at  first  sight,  we 
are  attracted  by  one  person  and  repelled  by  another, 
independently,  to  all  outward  seeming,  of  personal 
appearance  or  habits  of  observation.  This  is,  of  course, 
a  common  experience  of  most  people,  but  one  of  the 
strangest  instances  I  have  ever  known  was  in  my  own 
affection  for  Jack  Stadey  and  all  that  grew  out  of  it. 

Stadey  was  a  Russian  Finn,  one  of  a  race  that  on 
board  ship  has  always  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  bit 
wizard-like,  credited  with  the  possession  of  dread 
powers,  such  as  the  ability  to  raise  or  still  a  storm, 
become  invisible,  and  so  on.  The  bare  truth  about  the 
seafaring  Finns,  however,  is  that  they  make  probably 
the  finest  all-round  mariners  in  the  world.  No  other 
sea-folk  combine  so  completely  all  the  qualities  that 
go  to  make  up  the  perfect  seaman.  Many  of  them  may 
be  met  with  who  can  build  a  vessel,  make  her  spars, 
her  sails,  and  her  rigging,  do  the  blacksmith  work  and 
all  the  manifold  varieties  of  odd  workmanship  that  go 
to  complete  a  ship's  equipment,  take  her  to  sea,  and 
navigate  her  on  soundest  mathematical  principles,  and 
do  all  these  strange  acts  and  deeds  with  the  poorest, 
most  primitive  tools,  and  under  the  most  miserable, 

189 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

poverty-stricken  conditions.  But,  as  a  rule,  they  are 
not  smart;  they  must  be  allowed  to  do  their  work  in 
their  own  way,  at  their  own  pace,  and  with  no  close 
scrutiny  into  anything  except  results.  Now,  Jack 
Stadey  was  a  typical  Finn,  as  far  as  his  slow  ungainly 
movements  went,  but  none  of  that  ability  and  adaptive- 
ness  which  is  characteristic  of  his  countrymen  was 
manifest  in  him.  To  the  ordinary  observer  he  was  just 
a  heavy,  awkward  "  Dutchman,"  who  couldn't  jump  to 
save  his  life,  and  who  would  necessarily  be  put  upon 
all  the  heaviest,  dirtiest  jobs,  while  the  sailorizing  was 
being  done  by  smarter  men.  With  a  long,  square 
head,  faded  blue  eyes,  and  straggling  flaxen  mous- 
tache, round  shoulders,  and  dangling,  crooked  arms, 
he  seemed  born  to  be  the  butt  of  his  more  favoured 
shipmates.  Yet  when  I  first  became  acquainted  with 
him  in  the  fo'c'sle  of  the  old  Dartmouth,  outward 
bound  to  Hong  Kong,  something  about  him  appealed 
to  me,  and  we  became  chums.  The  rest  of  the  crew, 
with  one  notable  exception,  were  not  bad  fellows,  and 
Jack  shuffled  along  serenely  through  the  voyage,  quite 
undisturbed  by  the  fact  that  no  work  of  any  seaman- 
like nature  ever  came  to  his  share.  I  came  in  for  a 
good  deal  of  not  ill-natured  chaflf  from  the  rest  for 
my  close  intimacy  with  him,  but  it  only  had  the  effect 
of  knitting  us  closer  together,  for  there  is  just  that 
strain  of  obstinacy  about  me  that  opposition  only  stif- 
fens. And  as  I  studied  that  simple,  childlike  man,  I 
found  that  he  had  a  heart  of  gold,  a  nature  that  had 
no  taint  of  selfishness,  and  was  sublimely  unconscious 
of  its  own  worth. 

190 


The  Chums 

We  made  the  round  voyage  together,  and  on  our 
return  to  London  I  persuaded  him  to  quit  the  gloomy 
environment  of  sailor-town  to  come  and  take  lodgings 
with  me  in  a  turning  out  of  Oxford  Street,  whence  we 
could  sally  forth  and  find  ourselves  at  once  in  the 
midst  of  clean,  interesting  life,  free  from  the  filthy  im- 
portunities of  the  denizens  of  Shadwell  that  prey  upon 
the  sailor.  My  experiences  of  London  life  were  turned 
to  good  account  in  those  pleasant  days,  all  too  short. 
Together  we  did  all  the  sights,  and  it  would  be  hard  to 
say  which  of  us  enjoyed  ourselves  most.  At  last,  our 
funds  having  dwindled  to  the  last  five  pounds,  we  must 
needs  go  and  look  for  a  ship.  I  had  "  passed  "  for 
second  mate,  but  did  not  try  very  hard  to  get  the  berth 
that  my  certificate  entitled  me  to  take,  and  finally  we 
both  succeeded  in  getting  berths  before  the  mast  in  a 
barque  called  the  Magellan,  bound  for  New  Zealand. 
To  crown  the  common-sense  programme  we  had  been 
following  out,  we  did  a  thing  I  have  never  seen  deep- 
water  sailors  do  before  or  since — we  took  a  goodly 
supply  of  such  delicacies  on  board  with  us  as  would, 
had  we  husbanded  them,  have  kept  us  from  hunger 
until  we  crossed  the  line.  But  sailor  Jack,  with  all  his 
faults,  is  not  mean,  and  so  all  hands  shared  in  the  good 
things  until  they  were  gone,  which  was  in  about  three 
days.  To  our  great  disgust.  Jack  and  I  were  picked 
for  separate  watches,  so  that  our  chats  were  limited 
to  the  second  dog-watch,  that  pleasant  time  between 
six  and  eight  p.m.  when  both  watches  can  fraternize  at 
their  ease,  and  discuss  all  the  queer  questions  that  ap- 
peal to  the  sailor  mind. 

191 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

Jack  never  complained,  it  wasn't  his  habit,  but,  un- 
known to  me,  he  was  having  a  pretty  bad  time  of  it  in 
the  starboard  watch.  Of  course,  the  vessel  was  short- 
handed — four  hands  in  a  watch  to  handle  an  over- 
sparred  brute  of  nearly  a  thousand  tons — and  as  a  con- 
sequence Jack's  ungainly  want  of  smartness  was  trying 
to  his  over-worked  watchmates,  who  were,  besides; 
unable  to  understand  his  inability  or  unwillingness  to 
growl  at  the  hardness  of  the  common  lot.  The  chief 
man  in  that  watch  was  a  huge  Shetlandman,  Sandy 
Rorison,  who,  broadly  speaking,  was  everything  that 
Jack  was  not.  Six  feet  two  in  his  stocking  vamps,  up- 
right as  a  lower  mast,  and  agile  as  a  leading  seaman  on 
board  a  man-o'-war,  there  was  small  wonder  that 
Sandy  was  sorely  irritated  by  the  wooden  movements 
of  my  deliberate  chum.  But  one  day,  when,  relieved 
from  the  wheel,  I  came  into  the  forecastle  for  a  "  verse 
o'  the  pipe,"  I  found  Sandy  bullying  him  in  a  piratical 
manner.  All  prudential  considerations  were  forgotten, 
and  I  interfered,  although  it  was  like  coming  between 
a  lion  and  his  kill.  Black  with  fury,  Sandy  turned 
upon  me,  tearing  oflf  his  jumper  the  while,  and  in 
choking  monosyllables  invited  me  to  come  outside  and 
die.  I  refused,  giving  as  my  reason  that  I  did  not  feel 
tired  of  life,  and  admitting  that  I  was  fully  aware  of 
his  ability  to  make  cracker-hash  of  me.  But  while 
he  stood  gasping,  I  put  it  to  him  whether,  if  he  had  a 
chum,  any  consideration  for  his  own  safety  would  stop 
him  from  risking  it  in  the  endeavour  to  save  that 
chum  from  such  a  dog's  life  as  he  was  now  leading 
Jack  Stadey.     Well,  the  struggle  between  rage  and 

192 


The  Chums 

righteousness  in  that  big  rough  man  was  painful  to  see. 
It  lasted  for  nearly  five  minutes,  while  1  stood  calmly 
puffing  at  my  pipe  with  a  numb  sense  of  "  what  must 
be  will  be  "  about  me.  Then  suddenly  the  big  fellow 
went  and  sat  down,  buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  and 
was  silent.  1  went  about  my  work  unmolested,  but  for 
nearly  a  week  there  was  an  air  of  expectation  about  the 
whole  of  us — a  sense  that  an  explosion  might  occur  at 
any  moment.  Then  the  tension  relaxed,  and  I  saw 
with  quiet  delight  that  Rorison  had  entirely  aban- 
doned his  hazing  of  Jack. 

After  a  most  miserable  passage  of  a  hundred  and 
ten  days  we  arrived  at  our  port,  and  almost  immedi- 
ately after  came  an  opening  for  me  to  join  a  fine  ship 
as  second  mate.  It  could  not  be  disregarded,  although 
I  had  to  forfeit  to  the  knavish  skipper  the  whole  of 
my  outward  passage  earnings  for  the  privilege  of  being 
discharged.  So  Jack  and  I  parted,  making  no  sig^,  as 
is  the  custom  of  men,  of  the  rending  pain  of  our  separa- 
tion. When  next  I  saw  Jack,  several  years  after,  I 
had  left  the  sea,  but  on  a  periodical  visit  to  the  docks 
— a  habit  I  was  long  curing  myself  of — I  met  him, 
looking  for  a  ship.  How  triumphantly  I  bore  him 
westward  to  my  little  home  I  need  not  say,  but  when 
in  the  course  of  conversation  I  found  that  he  and 
Rorison  had  been  chums  ever  since  I  left  the  Magel- 
lan, I  was  dumbfounded.  The  more  because,  in  spite 
of  the  change  in  Rorison  after  my  risky  interference  on 
that  memorable  afternoon,  I  had  passed  many  unhappy 
hours,  thinking,  in  my  conceit  and  ignorance  of  the 
nobleness  of  which  the  majority  of  human  kind  are 

193 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

capable,  given  the  proper  opportunity  for  showing  it, 
that  Jack  would  have  but  a  sorry  time  of  it  after  /  had 
left  him.  Malvolio  thought  nobly  of  the  soul,  and 
I  have  had  reason,  God  knows,  to  think  nobly  of  my 
fellow-men,  even  of  those  who  upon  a  casual  acquaint- 
ance seemed  only  capable  of  exciting  disgust.  I  be- 
lieve that  few  indeed  are  the  men  and  women  who 
have  not  within  them  the  germ  of  as  heroic  deeds  as 
ever  thrilled  the  hearts  and  moistened  the  eyes  of  man- 
kind, although,  alas !  myriads  live  and  die  wanting 
the  occasion  that  could  fructify  the  germ.  Made  in 
His  own  image,  although  sorely  battered  out  of  the 
Divine  likeness,  the  Father  does  delight  in  showing 
how,  in  spite  of  the  distance  men  generally  have  placed 
between  themselves  and  Him,  the  type  still  persists, 
and  self-sacrifice,  soaring  above  the  devilish  cynicism 
that  afifects  to  know  no  God  but  self-interest,  blazes 
forth  to  show  to  all  who  will  but  open  their  eyes 
that  "  God's  in  His  Heaven,  all's  right  with  the 
world." 

Two  more  strangely  assorted  chums  surely  seldom 
foregathered  than  Sandy  and  Jack.  I  remember  none 
in  real  life,  though  the  big  trooper  George  Rouncewell 
and  Phil  have  been  immortalized  by  Dickens  in 
"  Bleak  House,"  and  the  probability  is  that  such  a 
friendship  had  been  known  to  that  marvellous  man. 
How  the  bond  between  the  Shetlandman  and  the  Finn 
gradually  grew  and  toughened  I  had  no  means  of 
knowing,  for  Jack  was  a  man  of  so  few  words,  that 
even  my  eager  questioning  never  succeeded  in  draw- 
ing from  him  the  information  that  I  thirsted  for.    How- 

194 


The  Chums 

ever,  to  resume  my  story,  the  pair  succeeded  in  ob- 
taining berths  in  the  same  ship  again,  a  big  iron  cHp- 
per,  the  Theodosia,  bound  to  Melbourne.  I  did  not 
succeed  in  meeting  Sandy  before  they  sailed,  though 
I  tried  hard  in  my  scanty  leisure  to  do  so.  But  I  de- 
termined that  when  they  returned  I  would  have  them 
both  home  to  my  little  place,  and  devote  some  of  my 
holidays  to  entertaining  them.  I  watched  carefully 
the  columns  of  the  Shipping  Gazette  for  news  of  the 
ship,  and  succeeded  in  tracing  her  home  to  Falmouth 
for  orders  from  Port  Pirie.  Thence  in  due  time  she 
departed,  to  my  great  disappointment,  for  Sunderland. 
And  the  rest  of  the  story  must  be  told  as  I  learned  it 
long  afterwards. 

It  was  in  the  late  autumn  that  they  sailed  from 
Falmouth,  leaving  port  on  a  glorious  afternoon  with 
that  peerless  weather  known  to  west-country  fisher- 
men as  a  "  fine  southerly."  Up  the  sparkling  Channel 
they  sped  with  every  stitch  of  canvas  set,  and  a  great 
contentment  reigning  on  board  at  the  prospect  of  the 
approaching  completion  of  the  voyage  under  such 
favourable  conditions.  Being  foul,  the  Theodosia 
made  slow  progress,  but  so  steady  was  the  favouring 
wind  that  in  two  days  she  picked  up  her  Channel  pilot 
off  Dungeness.  He  was  hardly  on  board  before  a 
change  came.  One  of  those  sudden  gales  came  howl- 
ing down  the  stem  North  Sea,  and  gradually  the  la- 
bouring ship  was  stripped  of  her  wings,  until  in  a 
perfect  whirl  of  freezing  spindrift  she  was  groping 
through  the  gloom  across  the  Thames  estuary.  But 
no  uneasiness  was  felt,  because  the  pilot  was  on  board, 

195 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

and  the  confidence  felt  in  the  well-known  skill  and 
seamanship  of  those  splendid  mariners  makes  even  the 
most  timid  of  deep-water  sailors  feel  secure  under  their 
charge.  No  man  is  infallible,  however,  and  just  be- 
fore midnight  a  shock,  which  threw  all  hands,  then 
standing  by  to  wear  ship,  off  their  feet,  brought  the 
huge  vessel  up  all  standing.  Not  many  minutes  were 
needed  to  show  every  man  on  board  that  she  was 
doomed.  Lying  as  she  was  on  the  weather  edge  of  the 
Galloper  Sand  (though  her  position  was  unknown  even 
to  the  pilot),  she  was  exposed  to  the  full  fury  of  the 
gale,  and  the  blue  lights  and  rockets  made  but  the 
faintest  impression  upon  the  appalling  blackness.  All 
hands  worked  with  feverish  energy  to  free  the  long- 
disused  boats  from  their  gripes,  although  they  were 
often  hurled  headlong  from  this  task  by  the  crushing 
impact  of  those  inky  masses  of  water  that  rose  in  ter- 
rible might  all  around.  And  as  the  boats  were  cleared, 
so  they  were  destroyed  until  but  one  remained  seawor- 
thy and  afloat  upon  the  lee-side,  fast  by  the  end  of  the 
forebrace.  One  by  one  the  beaten,  bruised,  and  almost 
despairing  men  succeeded  in  boarding  that  tiny  ark 
of  refuge  as  it  strained  and  plunged  like  a  terrified 
creature  striving  to  escape  from  the  proximity  of  the 
perishing  leviathan.  When  it  appeared  that  all  hands 
were  crowded  into  the  overburdened  boat,  the  watch- 
ful skipper  mounted  the  lee  rail,  and,  waiting  his  op- 
portunity, leapt  for  his  life. 

"  Cast  oflf,  cast  oflf,"  shouted  a  dozen  voices  as  the 
captain  struggled  aft  to  the  place  of  command,  but 
one  cry  overtopped  them  all,  the  frenzied  question  of 

196 


The  Chums 

Rorison,  "  Where's  Jack  Stadey  ?  "  A  babel  of  replies 
arose,  but  out  of  that  tumult  one  fact  emerged,  he  was 
not  among  them.  The  next  moment,  as  a  mountain- 
ous swell  lifted  the  boat  high  above  the  ship's  rail, 
Rorison  had  leapt  to  his  feet,  and,  catching  hold  of  the 
drooping  mainbrace  above  his  head,  was  hauling  him- 
self back  on  board  again.  And  the  boat  had  gone. 
Doubtless  in  the  confusion,  some  man  had  succeeded 
in  casting  the  end  of  the  rope  adrift  that  held  her,  not 
knowing  what  had  happened,  so  that  the  next  vast 
roller  swept  her  away  on  its  crest  a  hundred  fathoms 
in  an  instant.  The  wide  mouth  of  the  dark  engulfed 
her.  All  unheeding  the  disappearance  of  the  boat, 
Rorison  fought  his  way  about  the  submerged  and  roar- 
ing decks,  peering  with  a  seaman's  bat-like  power  of 
vision  through  the  dark  for  any  sign  of  his  chum.  Buf- 
feted by  the  scourging  seas,  conscious  that  he  was 
fast  losing  what  little  strength  remained  to  him,  he 
yet  persisted  in  his  search  until,  with  a  cry  of  joy,  he 
found  poor  Stadey  jammed  between  the  fife-rail  and 
the  pumps,  just  alive,  but  with  a  broken  leg  and  arm. 
Not  a  word  passed  between  them,  but  with  a  sudden 
accession  of  vigour,  Sandy  managed  to  drag  his  chum 
aft  and  lash  his  limp  body  to  one  of  the  poop  hen- 
coops. He  then  cast  another  coop  adrift,  and  secured 
it  to  the  side  of  the  first.  Having  done  this,  he  lashed 
himself  by  Stadey's  side,  and  with  one  hand  feeling 
the  languid  pulsation  of  his  chum's  heart,  awaited  the 
next  comber  that  should  sweep  their  frail  raft  away 
into  the  hissing  sea. 

Next  morning,  under  a  sky  of  heavenly  glory,  two 

14  197 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

Harwich  fishermen  found  the  tiny  raft,  still  supporting 
the  empty  husks  of  those  two  faithful  souls,  undivided 
even  unto  the  end  of  their  hard  life,  and  together  en- 
tered into  rest. 

With  these  two  exceptions  all  hands  were  saved. 


198 


ALPHONSO   M'GINTY 

Who  is  there  among  British  seafarers  that  does  not 
know  the  "  chain-locker  " — that  den  just  opposite  the 
Mint  Hke  an  exaggerated  bear-pit?  The  homeward- 
bounder,  his  heart  light  as  thistle-down  with  the  first 
taste  of  liberty  after  his  voyage's  long  imprisonment, 
takes  no  heed  of  its  squalor ;  no,  not  even  in  the  drear 
December  slushiness,  following  upon  a  Shadwell 
snowstorm.  If  he  does  glance  around  shudderingly  at 
the  haggard  faces  of  the  unshipped  for  a  moment,  the 
feel  of  the  beloved  half-sheet  of  blue  foolscap  osten- 
tatiously displayed  in  his  club-fingered  right  hand 
brings  the  departing  look  of  satisfaction  back  swiftly 
enough.  It  is  his  "  account  of  wages,"  his  passport 
within  the  swing  doors  of  the  office,  which  he  will 
presently  exchange  for  the  few  pieces  of  gold  for  which 
he  has  given  such  a  precious  slice  of  his  life. 

But  the  outward-bounder,  his  hands  thrust  deep 
into  empty  pockets,  the  bitter  taste  of  begrudged 
bread  parching  his  mouth,  and  the  scowling  face  of  his 
boarding  master  refusing  to  pass  from  his  mind's  eye ; 
he  it  is  who  feels  the  utter  desolation  of  the  crowded 
"  chain-locker  "  corrode  his  very  soul.  After  a  long 
day's  tramp  around  the  docks,  sneaking  on  board  ves- 
sels like  a  thief,  and  asking  the  mate  for  a  "  chance  ** 

199 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

with  bated  breath,  as  if  begging  for  pence,  unsuc- 
cessful and  weary,  he  returns  to  this  walled-in  pit  of 
gloom,  and  jealously  eyes  the  company  of  miserables 
Hke  himself,  as  if  in  each  one  he  saw  a  potential 
snatcher  of  his  last  hope  of  a  berth. 

Outward-bounders  have  little  to  say  to  each  other 
in  the  *'  chain-locker."  They  wait,  not  like  honest 
labourers  seeking  legitimate  employment,  but  like  half- 
tried  prisoners  awaiting  sentence.  This  characteristic 
is  so  universal  that,  although  we  who  bided  the  com- 
ing of  the  Gareth's  skipper  had  all  got  our  discharges 
in,  and  so  felt  reasonably  sure  of  her,  we  had  not  ex- 
changed half  a  dozen  words  among  the  fourteen  of  us. 

But  there  suddenly  appeared  in  our  midst  a  square- 
built,  rugged-faced  man  of  middle  height,  whose  grey 
eyes  twinkled  across  his  ruined  nose,  and  whose  mouth 
had  that  droll  droop  of  the  lower  lip  that  shows  a 
readiness,  not  only  to  laugh  in  and  out  of  season,  but 
almost  pathetically  invites  the  beholder  to  laugh  too. 
He  it  was  who  broke  the  stony  silence  by  saying  in  the 
richest  brogue,  "  Is  it  all  av  us  bhoys  that  does  be 
goin'  in  the  wan  ship,  I  wondher?"  Even  the  most 
morose  among  us  felt  an  inclination  to  smile,  we 
hardly  knew  why,  but  just  then  the  swing  door  of  the 
engaging  office  burst  open,  and  a  hoarse  voice  shouted, 
"  Crew  o'  the  Gareth  here." 

The  words,  like  some  irresistible  centripetal  force, 
sucked  in  from  the  remotest  corner  of  the  large  area 
every  man,  and  in  a  moment  all  of  us,  who  had,  as  we 
thought,  secured  our  chances  by  lodging  our  dis- 
charges beforehand,  were  seized  with  something  of  a 

200 


Alphonso  M'Ginty 

panic  lest  we  should  lose  the  ship  after  all.  Heavens  t 
how  we  thrust  and  tore  our  way  into  the  office,  past 
the  burly  policeman  who  held  every  one  of  us  at  the 
pinch  of  the  door  until  he  was  satisfied  of  our  right 
to  enter.  Once  within,  we  felt  safe,  and  stood  nerv- 
ously fingering  our  caps  while  the  clerk  gabbled  over 
the  usual  formula,  to  which  none  of  us  gave  the  slight- 
est heed.  "  Signing  on  "  began  and  proceeded  apace, 
to  the  accompaniment  of  a  running  fire  of  questions  as 
to  age,  nationality,  last  ship,  etc.,  to  which  answers, 
if  not  promptly  forthcoming,  were,  I  am  afraid,  sup- 
plied by  the  questioner.  There  was  a  subdued  chuckle, 
and  the  man  who  had  spoken  outside  stood  at  the 
counter. 

"  What  name?"  snapped  the  clerk. 

"  Alphonso  M'Ginty,  yer  anner,"  was  the  answer. 
No  exquisite  witticism  ever  raised  a  more  wholesome 
burst  of  laughter.  It  positively  brightened  that  dull 
hole  like  a  ray  of  sea-sunshine. 

"  How  old  ? "  said  the  clerk,  in  a  voice  still  tremu- 
lous. 

"  God  befrind  me,  I  forgot !     Say  tirty-five,  sor." 

"  Your  discharge  says  twenty-five  ?  "  returned  the 
clerk. 

"  Ah  yes,  yer  anner,  but  it's  said  that  for  the  last 
tirty  years ! " 

"  Isn't  it  time  it  was  altered  then  ?  "  retorted  the 
clerk,  magisterial  again,  as  he  entered  fifty-five  on  the 
articles.  The  old  fellow's  quaint  speech,  added  to  an 
indefinable  aureole  of  good  humour  about  him,  had 
completely  changed  the  sullen  aspect  of  our  crowd,  so 

201 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

that  for  the  moment  we  quite  forget  that  but  fourteen 
of  us  were  engaged  to  take  the  4000-ton  ship  Gareth 
to  New  Zealand  first,  and  then  to  any  other  part  of 
the  world,  voyage  not  to  exceed  three  years. 

So,  with  even  the  Dutchmen  laughing  and  chuck- 
ling in  sympathy  with  the  fun  they  felt,  but  didn't 
understand,  we  all  dispersed  with  our  advance  notes  to 
get  such  discount  as  fate  and  the  sharks  would  allow. 
In  good  time  we  were  all  aboard,  for  ships  were  scarce, 
and  all  of  us  anxious  to  get  away.  But  when  we  saw 
the  vast,  gaunt  hull  well  down  to  Plimsoll's  Mark,  and 
the  four  towering  steel  giants  of  masts  with  their  im- 
mense spreading  branches,  and  thought  of  the  hand- 
ful we  were  to  manage  them,  we  felt  a  colder  chill  than 
even  the  biting  edge  of  the  bitter  east  wind  had 
given  us. 

We  mustered  in  the  dark,  iron  barn  of  the  fo'c'sle, 
and  began  selecting  bunks  temporarily,  until  we  were 
picked  for  watches,  when  our  attention  was  arrested 
by  the  voice  of  M'Ginty,  saying — 

"  Bhoys !  " 

All  turned  towards  him  where  he  stood,  with  a 
bottle  of  rum  and  a  tea-cup,  and  no  one  needed  a  sec- 
ond call.  When  the  bottle  was  empty,  and  our  hearts 
had  gone  out  to  the  donor,  he  said,  clearing  his  throat 
once  or  twice — 

"  Bhoys,  fergive  me,   I'm  a  imposhtor.     I 

broke  me  right  knee-cap  an'  five  ribs  comin'  home 
from  'Frisco  in  the  Lamech — fell  from  the  fore-t'gal- 
ant  yard — an'  I  bin  three  months  in  Poplar  Hospital. 
I  can't  go  aloft,  but  I  didn't  think  what  a  crime  it 

202 


Alphonso  M'Ginty 

wuz  goin'  to  be  agin  ye  all  until  I  see  this  awful  over- 
sparred  brute  here.  Don't  be  harrd  on  me,  bhoys ;  ye 
wouldn't  have  me  starrve  ashore,  wud  yez  now,  or  fret 
me  poor  owld  hearrt  out  in  the  wurrkhouse  afther 
forty-five  year  on  the  open  sea  ?  " 

He  stopped  and  looked  around  distressfully,  and  in 
that  moment  all  our  hearts  warmed  to  him.  We  were 
a  mixed  crowd,  of  course,  but  nearly  half  of  us  were 
British,  and  there  would  have  been  a  stormy  scene  if 
any  of  the  aliens  had  ventured  to  raise  a  protest 
against  M'Ginty's  incapacity.  We  didn't  express  our 
sympathy,  but  we  felt  it,  and  he  with  native  quickness 
knew  that  we  did.  And  never  from  that  day  forward 
did  the  brave  old  chap  hear  a  word  of  complaint  from 
any  of  us  about  having  to  do  his  work. 

Just  then  the  voice  of  the  bos'un  sounded  outside, 
"  Turn  to !  "  and  as  we  departed  to  commence  work, 
although  not  a  word  was  said,  there  was  a  fierce  de- 
termination among  us  to  protect  M'Ginty  against  any 
harshness  from  the  officers  on  account  of  his  disable- 
ment. There  was  too  much  of  a  bustle  getting  out  of 
dock  for  any  notice  to  be  taken  of  his  stiflf  leg,  which 
he  had  so  cleverly  concealed  while  shipping,  but  the 
mate  happening  to  call  him  up  on  to  the  forecastle 
head  for  something,  his  lameness  was  glaringly  ap- 
parent at  once  to  the  bos'un,  who  stood  behind  him. 
For  just  a  minute  it  looked  like  trouble  as  the  bos'un 

began  to  bluster  about  his  being  a  cripple,  but 

we  all  gathered  round,  and  the  matter  was  effectually 
settled  at  once. 

We  never  regretted  our  consideration.  For,  while 
203 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

it  was  true  that  he  couldn't  get  aloft,  and  those  mighty 
sails  would  have  been  a  handful  for  double  our  num- 
ber in  a  breeze  of  wind,  there  never  was  a  more  willing, 
tireless  worker  on  deck,  and  below  he  was  a  perfect 
godsend.  His  sunny  temper,  bubbling  fun,  and  inex- 
haustible stock  of  yarns,  made  our  grey  lives  happier 
than  they  had  ever  been  at  sea  before.  If  we  would 
have  allowed  it,  he  would  have  been  a  slave  to  all  of 
us,  for  we  carried  no  boys,  and  all  the  odd  domestic 
jobs  of  the  fo'c'sle  had  to  be  done  by  ourselves.  As  it 
was,  he  was  always  doing  something  for  somebody, 
and  as  he  was  a  thorough  sailor  in  his  general  handi- 
ness  and  ability,  his  services  were  highly  appreciated. 
He  made  the  Gareth  a  comfortable  ship,  in  spite  of  her 
manifold  drawbacks. 

In  due  time  we  reached  the  "  roaring  forties  "  and 
began  to  run  the  easting  down.  The  long,  tem- 
pestuous stretch  of  the  Southern  Ocean  lay  before  us, 
and  the  prospect  was  by  no  means  cheering.  The 
Gareth,  in  spite  of  her  huge  bulk,  had  given  us  a  taste 
of  her  quality  when  running  before  a  heavy  breeze  of 
wind  shortly  after  getting  clear  of  the  Channel,  and  we 
knew  that  she  was  one  of  the  wettest  of  her  class,  a 
vessel  that  welcomed  every  howling  sea  as  an  old 
friend,  and  freely  invited  it  to  range  the  whole  expanse 
of  her  decks  from  poop  to  forecastle.  And,  in  accord- 
ance with  precedent,  we  knew  that  she  would  be 
driven  to  the  last  extremity  of  canvas  endurance,  not 
only  in  the  hope  of  making  a  quick  passage,  but  be- 
cause shortening  sail  after  really  hard  running  was 
such  an  awful  strain  upon  the  handful  of  men  compos- 

204 


Alphonso  M^Ginty 

ing  the  crew.  So  that  when  once  the  light  sails  were  se- 
cure, an  attempt  would  always  be  made  to  "  hang  on  " 
to  the  still  enormous  spread  of  sail  remaining,  until  the 
gale  blew  itself  out,  or  we  had  run  out  of  its  vast  area. 
But  for  some  days  the  brave  west  wind  lingered  in  its 
lair,  and  we  slowly  crept  to  the  s'uthard  and  east'ard 
with  trumpery  little  spurts  of  northerly  and  nor'-wes- 
terly  breeze.  We  had  reached  47°  S.  and  about  10° 
E.  when,  one  afternoon,  it  fell  calm. 

One  of  the  most  magnificent  sunsets  imaginable 
spread  its  glories  over  the  western  sky.  Great  splashes 
of  gorgeous  colouring  stained  the  pale  blue  of  the 
heavens,  and  illuminated  the  fantastic  crags  and 
ranges  of  cloud  that  lay  motionless  around  the  horizon, 
like  fragments  of  a  disintegrated  world.  A  long,  list- 
less swell  came  solemnly  from  the  west  at  regular  inter- 
vals, giving  the  waiting  ship  a  stately  rhythmical 
motion  in  the  glassy  waters,  and  making  the  immense 
squares  of  canvas  that  hung  straight  as  boards  from 
the  yards  slam  against  the  steel  masts  with  a  sullen 
boom.  Except  for  that  occasionally  recurring  sound, 
a  solemn  stillness  reigned  supreme,  while  the  wide 
mirror  of  the  ocean  reflected  faithfully  all  the  flaming 
tints  of  the  sky.  Quietly  all  of  us  gathered  on  the 
fo'c'sle  head  for  the  second  dog-watch  smoke,  but  for 
some  time  all  seemed  strangely  disinclined  for  the 
desultor>'  chat  that  usually  takes  place  at  that  pleasant 
hour.  Pipes  were  puffed  in  silence  for  half  an  hour, 
until  suddenly  M'Ginty  broke  the  spell  (his  voice 
sounding  strangely  clear  and  vibrant,  by  saying — 

"  I  had  a  quare  dhrame  lasht  night." 
205 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

No  one  stirred  or  spoke,  and  after  a  few  meditative 
pulls  at  his  pipe,  he  went  on — 

"  I  dhreamt  that  I  was  a  tiny  gorsoon  again,  at 
home  in  owld  Baltimore.  I'd  been  wandherin'  and 
sthrayin',  God  alone  knows  where,  fur  a  dhreadful  long 
while,  it  seemed,  until  at  lasht,  whin  I  wuz  ready  t' 
die  from  sheer  weariness  an'  fright,  I  hearrd  me  dear 
mother's  sweet  voice  cryin',  '  Where's  Fonnie  avic 
iver  got  to  this  long  while  ?  '  Oh  !  'twas  as  if  an  angel 
from  hiven  shpoke  to  me,  an'  I  cried  wid  all  me  hearrt 
an'  me  tongue,  '  Here,  mother,  here  I  am ! '  An'  she 
gathered  me  up  in  her  arrums  that  wuz  so  soft  an'  cosy, 
till  I  felt  as  if  I  was  a  little  tired  chick  neshtlin'  into 
its  mother's  feathers  in  the  snuggest  of  nests.  I  didn't 
go  to  sleep,  I  just  let  meself  sink  down,  down  into  rest, 
happy  as  any  saint  in  glory.  An'  thin  I  woke  up  wid 
a  big,  tearin'  ache  all  over  me  poor  owld  broken-up 
body.  But  bad  as  that  wuz,  'twuz  just  nothin'  at  all  to 
the  gnawin'  ache  at  me  hearrt." 

Silence  wrapped  us  round  again,  for  who  among  us 
could  find  any  words  to  apply  to  such  a  story  as  that? 
And  it  affected  us  all  the  more  because  of  its  complete 
contrast  to  M'Ginty's  usual  bright,  cheery,  and  uncom- 
plaining humour.  Not  another  word  was  spoken  by 
any  one  until  the  sharp  strokes  on  the  little  bell  aft 
cleft  the  still  air,  and,  in  immediate  response,  one  rose 
and  smote  the  big  bell  hanging  at  the  break  of  the 
forecastle  four  double  blows,  ushering  in  the  first  watch 
of  the  night.  The  watch  on  deck  relieved  wheel  and 
look-out,  and  we  who  were  fortunate  enough  to  have 
the  "  eight  hours  in,"  lost  no  time  in  seeking  our  re- 

206 


Alphonso  M*Ginty 

spective  bunks,  since  in  those  stern  latitudes  we  might 
expect  a  sudden  call  at  any  moment.  We  had  hardly 
been  asleep  five  minutes,  it  seemed,  when  a  hoarse  cry 
came  pealing  in  through  the  fo'c'sle  door  of  "  All 
hands  on  deck !  Shorten  sail !  "  And  as  we  all  started 
wide  awake,  we  heard  the  furious  voice  of  the  southern 
tempest  tearing  up  the  face  of  the  deep,  and  felt  the 
massive  fabric  beneath  our  feet  leaping  and  straining 
under  the  tremendous  strain  of  her  great  breadths  of 
canvas,  that  we  had  left  hanging  so  idly  at  eight  bells. 

Out  into  the  black  night  we  hurried,  meeting  the 
waiting  mate  at  the  foremast,  and  answering  his  first 
order  of  *'  man  the  fore  tops'ls  downhaul "  with  the 
usual  repetition  of  his  words.  Weird  cries  arose  as  we 
hauled  with  all  our  strength  on  the  downhauls  and 
spilling  lines,  while  overhead  we  could  hear,  even 
above  the  roar  of  the  storm,  the  deep  boom  of  the 
topsails  fiercely  fighting  against  the  restraining  gear. 
Then,  with  a  hissing,  spiteful  snarl,  came  snow  and 
sleet,  lashing  us  like  shotted  whips,  and  making  the 
darkness  more  profound  because  of  the  impossibility 
of  opening  the  eyes  against  the  stinging  fragments  of 
ice.  But,  after  much  stumbling  and  struggling,  we 
got  the  four  huge  tops'ls  down,  and,  without  waiting 
for  the  order,  started  aloft  to  furl,  the  pitiful  incapacity 
of  our  numbers  most  glaringly  apparent.  The  pressure 
of  the  wind  was  so  great  that  it  was  no  easy  matter  to 
get  aloft,  but  clinging  like  cats,  we  presently  found  our- 
selves (six  of  the  port  watch)  on  the  fore  topsailyard. 

The  first  thing  evident  was  that  the  great  sail  was 
very  slightly  subdued  by  the  gear;  it  hovered  above 

207 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

the  yard  like  a  white  balloon,  making  it  both  difficult 
and  dangerous  to  get  out  along  the  spar.  The  storm 
scourged  us  pitilessly,  the  great  round  of  the  sail 
resisted  all  our  attempts  to  "  fist "  it,  and  we  seemed 
as  helpless  as  children.  Some  bold  spirits  clutched 
the  lifts,  and,  swinging  above  the  sail,  tried  to  stamp 
a  hollow  into  it  with  their  feet;  but  against  the  in- 
creasing fury  of  the  tempest  we  seemed  to  be  utterly 
impotent.  We  were  so  widely  separated,  too,  that 
each  man  appeared  to  be  essaying  a  giant's  task 
single-handed,  and  that  horrible  sense  of  fast-oozing 
strength  was  paralyzing  us.  Feeling  left  our  hands; 
we  smote  them  savagely  against  that  unbending  sail 
without  sensation,  and  still  we  seemed  no  nearer  the 
conclusion  of  our  task.  But  suddenly  the  ship  gave  a 
great  lurch  to  windward,  and  just  for  one  moment  the 
hitherto  unyielding  curve  of  the  sail  quivered.  In 
that  instant  every  fist  had  clutched  a  fold,  and  with  a 
flash  of  energy  we  strained  every  sinew  to  conquer 
our  enemy. 

Tugging  like  a  madman  to  get  the  sail  spilled,  I 
glanced  sideways,  and  saw  to  my  horror,  by  a  jagged 
flash  of  lightning,  the  rugged  face  of  M'Ginty. 

I  had  hardly  recognized  him  when,  with  a  roar  like 
the  combined  voices  of  a  troop  of  lions,  the  sail  tore 
itself  away  from  us,  and  with  bleeding  hands  I  clutched 
at  the  foot-rope  stirrup  as  I  fell  back.  But  at  the 
same  moment  M'Ginty's  arms  flew  up.  He  caught  at 
the  empty  gloom  above  him,  gasping,  "  In  manus  tiias, 

Domine "  and  fell.     Far  beneath  us  the  hungry 

208 


He  j^aspcil   "  In   manus-  tuas,  Domiiu-,"  ami   I'cli. 


Alphonso  M'Ginty 

sea  seethed  and  whirled,  its  white  glare  showing 
ghastly  against  the  thick  darkness  above.  For  two 
or  three  seconds  I  hung  as  if  irresolute  whether  to 
follow  my  poor  old  shipmate  or  not ;  then  the  heavy 
flapping  of  the  sail  aroused  me,  and  springing  up  again, 
I  renewed  my  efforts.  The  ship  had  evidently  got  a 
"  wipe  up  "  into  the  wind,  for  the  sail  was  now  power- 
less against  us,  and  in  less  than  five  minutes  it  was 
fast,  and  we  were  descending  with  all  speed  to  renew 
our  desperate  fight  with  the  mizen  and  jigger  top- 
sails. The  decks  were  like  the  sea  overside,  for  wave 
after  wave  toppled  inboard,  and  it  was  at  the  most 
imminent  risk  to  life  and  limb  that  we  scrambled  aft, 
quite  a  sense  of  relief  coming  as  we  swung  out  of  that 
turbulent  fiood  into  the  rigging  again. 

But  I  was  almost  past  feeling  now.  A  dull  aching 
sense  of  loss  clung  around  my  heart,  and  the  patient, 
kindly  face  of  my  shipmate  seemed  branded  upon  my 
eyes,  as  he  had  lifted  it  to  the  stormy  skies  in  his  last 
supplicatory  moan.  I  went  about  my  work  doggedly, 
mechanically ;  indifferent  to  cold,  fatigue,  or  pain,  un- 
til, when  at  last  she  was  snugged  down,  and,  under 
the  fore  lower  topsails  and  reefed  foresail,  was  flying 
through  the  darkness  like  some  hunted  thing,  I  stag- 
gered wearily  into  the  cheerless  fo'c'sle,  dropped  upon 
a  chest,  and  stared  moodily  at  vacancy. 

Somebody  said,  "Where's  M'Ginty?"  That 
roused  me.  It  seemed  to  put  new  life  and  hope  into 
me,  for  I  replied  quite  brightly,  "  He's  gone  to  the  rest 
he  was  talking  about  in  the  dog-watch.  He'll  never  eat 
workhouse  bread,  thank  God !  " 

209 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

Eager  questioning  followed,  mingled  with  utter 
amazement  at  his  getting  aloft  at  all.  But  when  all 
had  said  their  say  one  feeling  had  been  plainly  mani- 
fested— a  feeling  of  deep  thankfulness  that  such  a 
grand  old  sailor  as  our  shipmate  M'Ginty  was  where 
he  fain  would  be,  taking  his  long  and  well-earned  rest. 


2IO 


THE   LAST    STAND   OF  THE 
DECAPODS 

Probably  few  of  the  thinking  inhabitants  of  dry 
land,  with  all  their  craving  for  tales  of  the  marvellous, 
the  gloomy,  and  the  gigantic,  have  in  these  later  cen- 
turies of  the  world's  history  given  much  thought  to  the 
conditions  of  constant  warfare  existing  beneath  the 
surface  of  the  ocean.  As  readers  of  ancient  classics 
well  know,  the  fathers  of  literature  gave  much  atten- 
tion to  the  vast,  awe-inspiring  inhabitants  of  the  sea, 
investing  and  embellishing  the  few  fragments  of  fact 
concerning  them  which  were  available  with  a  thousand 
fantastic  inventions  of  their  own  naive  imaginations, 
until  there  emerged,  chief  and  ruler  of  them  all,  the 
Kraken,  Leviathan,  or  whatever  other  local  name  was 
considered  to  best  convey  in  one  word  their  accumu- 
lated ideas  of  terror.  In  lesser  degree,  but  still  worthy 
compeers  of  the  fire-breathing  dragon  and  sky-dark- 
ening *'  Rukh  "  of  earth  and  sky,  a  worthy  host  of 
attendant  sea-monsters  were  conjured  up,  until,  apart 
from  the  terror  of  loneliness,  of  irresistible  fury  and  in- 
stability that  the  sea  presented  to  primitive  peoples, 
the  awful  nature  of  its  supposed  inhabitants  made  the 
contemplation  of  an  ocean  journey  sufficient  to  appal 
the  stoutest  heart.     A  better  understanding  of  this 

211 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

aspect  of  the  sea  to  early  voyagers  may  be  obtained 
from  some  of  the  artistic  efforts  of  those  days  than 
anything  else.  There  you  shall  see  gigantic  creatures 
with  human  faces,  teeth  like  foot-long  wedges,  armour- 
plated  bodies,  and  massive  feet  fitted  with  claws  like 
scythe-blades,  calmly  issuing  from  the  waves  to  prey 
upon  the  dwellers  on  the  margin,  or  devouring  with 
much  apparent  enjoyment  ships  with  their  crews,  as  a 
child  crunches  a  stick  of  barley-sugar.  Even  such 
innocent-looking  animals  as  the  seals  were  distorted 
and  decorated  until  the  contemplation  of  their  coun- 
terfeit presentment  is  sufficient  to  give  a  healthy  man 
the  nightmare,  while  such  monsters  as  really  were  so 
terrible  of  aspect  that  they  could  hardly  be  "  im- 
proved "  upon  were  increased  in  size  until  they  re- 
sembled islands  whereon  whole  tribes  might  live.  To 
these  chimaeras  were  credited  all  natural  phenomena 
such  as  waterspouts,  whirlpools,  and  the  upheaval  of 
submarine  volcanoes.  Some  imaginative  people  went 
even  farther  than  that  by  attributing  the  support  of  the 
whole  earth  to  a  vast  sea-monster;  while  others,  like 
the  ancient  Jews,  fondly  pictured  Leviathan  awaiting 
in  the  solitude  and  gloom  of  ocean's  depths  the  glad 
day  of  Israel's  reunion,  when  the  mountain  ranges  of 
his  flesh  would  be  ready  to  furnish  forth  the  family 
feast  for  all  the  myriads  of  Abraham's  children. 

Surely  we  may  pause  awhile  to  contemplate  the 
overmastering  courage  of  the  earliest  seafarers,  who, 
in  spite  of  all  these  terrors,  unappalled  by  the  com- 
parison between  their  tiny  shallops  and  the  mighty 
waves  that  towered  above  them,  set  boldly  out  from 

212 


The  Last  Stand  of  the   Decapods 


» 


shore  into  the  unknown,  obeying  that  deeply  rooted 
instinct  of  migration  which  has  peopled  every  habitable 
part  of  the  earth's  surface.  Those  who  remember  their 
childhood's  dread  of  the  dark,  with  its  possible  popula- 
tion of  bogeys,  who  have  ever  been  lost  in  early  youth 
in  some  lonely  place,  can  have  some  dim  conception, 
though  only  a  dim  one,  after  all,  of  the  inward  battle 
these  ancients  fought  and  won,  until  it  became  pos- 
sible for  the  epigram  to  be  written  in  utmost  truth — 

"  The  seas  but  join  the  nations  they  divide." 

But,  after  all,  we  are  not  now  concerned  with  the 
warlike  doings  of  men.  It  is  with  the  actualities  of 
submarine  struggle  we  wish  to  deal — those  wars  with- 
out an  armistice,  where  to  be  defeated  is  to  be  de- 
voured, and  from  the  sea-shouldering  whale  down  to 
the  smallest  sea-insect  every  living  thing  is  carnivo- 
rous, dependent  directly  upon  the  flesh  of  its  neigh- 
bours for  its  own  life,  and  incapable  of  altruism  in 
any  form  whatever,  except  among  certain  of  the  mam- 
malia and  the  sharks.  In  dealing  with  the  more  heroic 
phases  of  this  unending  warfare,  then,  it  must  be  said, 
once  for  all,  that  the  ancient  writers  had  a  great  deal 
of  reason  on  their  side.  They  distorted  and  exagger- 
ated, of  course,  as  all  children  do,  but  they  did  not  dis- 
believe. But  modems,  rushing  to  the  opposite  ex- 
treme, have  neglected  the  marvels  of  the  sea  by  the 
simple  process  of  disbelieving  in  them,  except  in  the 
case  of  the  sea-serpent,  that  myth  which  seems  bound 
to  persist  for  ever  and  ever.  Only  of  late  years  have 
the  savants  of  the  world  allowed  themselves  to  be  con- 
's 213 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

vinced  of  the  existence  of  a  far  more  wondrous  mon- 
ster than  the  sea-serpent  (if  that  "  loathly  worm  "  were 
a  reality),  the  original  Kraken  of  old-world  legends. 
Hugest  of  all  the  moUusca,  whose  prevailing  charac- 
teristics are  ugliness,  ferocity,  and  unappeasable  hun- 
ger, he  has  lately  asserted  himself  so  firmly  that  cur- 
rent imaginative  literature  bristles  with  allusions  to 
him,  albeit  oftentimes  in  situations  where  he  could  by 
no  possibility  be  found.  No  matter,  he  has  supplied  a 
long-felt  want ;  but  the  curious  fact  remains  that  he  is 
not  a  discovery,  but  a  re-appearance.  The  gigantic 
cuttle-fish  of  actual,  indisputable  fact  is,  in  all  respects 
except  size,  the  Kraken ;  and  any  faithful  representa- 
tion of  him  will  justify  the  assertion  that  no  imagina- 
tion could  add  anything  to  the  terror-breeding  po- 
tentialities of  his  aspect.  That  is  so,  even  when  he  is 
viewed  by  the  light  of  day  in  the  helplessness  of  death 
or  disabling  sickness,  or  in  the  invincible  grip  of  his 
only  conqueror.  In  his  proper  realm,  crouching  far 
below  the  surface  of  the  sea  in  some  coral  cave  or 
labyrinth  of  rocks,  he  must  present  a  sight  so  awful 
that  the  imagination  recoils  before  it.  For  consider 
him  but  a  little.  He  possesses  a  cylindrical  body  reach- 
ing in  the  largest  specimens  yet  recorded  as  having 
been  seen,  a  length  of  between  sixty  and  seventy  feet, 
with  an  average  girth  of  half  that  amount.  That  is  to 
say,  considerably  larger  than  a  Pullman  railway-car. 
Now,  this  immense  mass  is  of  boneless  gelatinous  mat- 
ter capable  of  much  greater  distension  than  a  snake ; 
so  that  in  the  improbable  event  of  his  obtaining  an 
extra-abundant  supply  of  food,  it  is  competent  to  swell 

214 


The  Last  Stand  of  the  Decapods 

to  the  occasion  and  still  give  the  flood  of  digestive 
juices  that  it  secretes  full  opportunity  to  dispose  of  the 
burden  with  almost  incredible  rapidity.  Now,  the 
apex  of  this  mighty  cylinder — I  had  almost  said  "  tail," 
but  remembered  that  it  would  give  a  wrong  impres- 
sion, since  it  is  the  part  of  the  monster  that  always 
comes  first  when  he  is  moving  from  place  to  place, 
is  conical,  that  is  to  say,  it  tapers  off  to  a  blunt  point 
something  like  a  whitehead  torpedo.  Near  this  apex 
there  is  a  broad  fin-like  arrangement  looking  much 
like  the  body  of  a  skate  without  its  tail,  which,  how- 
ever, is  used  strictly  for  steering  purposes  only.  So 
far  there  is  nothing  particularly  striking  about  the 
appearance  of  this  mighty  cylinder  except  in  colour. 
This  characteristic  varies  in  different  individuals,  but 
is  always  reminiscent  of  the  hues  of  a  very  light- 
coloured  leopard;  that  is  to  say,  the  ground  is  of  a 
livid  greenish  white,  while  the  detail  is  in  splashes  and 
spots  of  lurid  red  and  yellow,  with  an  occasional 
nimbus  of  pale  blue  around  these  deeper  markings. 
But  it  is  the  head  of  the  monster  that  appals.  Na- 
ture would  seem  in  the  construction  of  this  greatest 
of  all  molluscs  to  have  combined  every  weapon  of 
offence  possessed  by  the  rest  of  the  animal  kingdom  in 
one  amazing  arsenal,  disposing  them  in  such  a  manner 
that  not  only  are  they  capable  of  terrific  destruction, 
but  their  appearance  defies  adequate  description. 

The  trunk  at  the  head  end  is  sheath-like,  its  ter- 
minating edges  forming  a  sort  of  collar  around  the 
vast  cable  of  muscles  without  a  fragment  of  bone 
which  connects  it  with  the  head.     Through  a  large 

215 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

opening  within  this  collar  is  pumped  a  jet  of  water,  the 
pressure  of  which  upon  the  surrounding  sea  is  suf- 
ficiently great  to  drive  the  whole  bulk  of  the  crea- 
ture, weighing  perhaps  sixty  or  seventy  tons,  back- 
wards through  the  water,  at  the  rate  of  sixteen  to 
twenty  miles  per  hour,  not  in  steady  progression,  of 
course,  but  by  successive  leaps.  At  will,  this  pro- 
pelling jet  is  deeply  stained  with  sepia,  a  dark-brown 
inky  fluid,  which,  mingling  with  the  encompassing  sea, 
fills  all  the  neighbourhood  of  the  monster  with  a  gloom 
so  deep  that  nothing,  save  one  of  its  own  species,  can 
see  either  to  fight  or  whither  to  fly.  The  head  itself 
is  of  proportionate  size.  It  is  rounded  underneath, 
and  of  much  lighter  hue  than  the  trunk.  On  either 
side  of  it  is  set  an  eye,  of  such  dimensions  that  the 
mere  statement  of  them  sounds  like  the  efforts  of  one 
of  those  grand  old  mediaeval  romancers,  whose  sole 
object  was  to  make  their  reader's  flesh  creep.  It  is 
perfectly  safe  to  say  that  even  in  proportion  to  size, 
no  other  known  creature  has  such  organs  of  vision  as 
the  cuttle-fish,  for  the  pupils  of  such  an  one  as  I  am 
now  describing  are  fully  two  feet  in  diameter.  They 
are  perfectly  black,  with  a  dead  white  rim,  and  cannot 
be  closed.  No  doubt  their  enormous  size  is  for  the 
purpose  of  enabling  their  possessor  to  discern  what 
is  going  on  amidst  the  thick  darkness  that  he  himself 
has  raised,  so  that  while  all  other  organisms  are  grop- 
ing blindly  in  the  gloom,  he  may  work  his  will  among 
them.  Then  come  the  weapons  which  give  the  cuttle- 
fish its  power  of  destruction,  the  arms  or  tentacles. 
These  are  not  eight  in  number,  as  in  the  octopus,  an 

2l6 


The  Last  Stand  of  the  Decapods 

ugly  beast  enough  and  spiteful  withal,  but  a  babe  of 
innocence  compared  with  our  present  subject.  Every 
schoolboy  should  know  that  octopus  signifies  an  eight- 
armed  or  eight-footed  creature,  and  yet  in  nine  cases 
out  of  ten  where  writers  of  fiction  and  would-be 
teachers  of  fact  are  describing  the  deadly  doings  of  the 
gigantic  cuttle-fish  they  call  him  an  octopus ;  whereas 
he  is  nothing  of  the  kind,  for,  in  addition  to  the  eight 
arms  which  the  octopus  possesses,  the  cuttle-fish  flaunts 
two,  each  of  which  is  double  the  length  of  the  eight, 
making  him  a  decapod.  This  confusion  is  the  more  un- 
pardonable, because  even  the  most  ancient  of  scribes 
always  spoke  of  this  mollusc  as  the  "  ten-armed  one," 
while  a  reference  to  any  standard  work  on  Natural 
History  will  show  even  the  humbler  cuttle-fish  with 
their  full  complement  of  arms — that  is,  ten.  But  this 
is  digression. 

Our  friend  has,  then,  ten  arms  springing  from  the 
crown  of  his  head,  of  which  eight  are  forty  feet  in 
length,  and  two  are  seventy  to  eighty.  The  eight  each 
taper  outward  from  the  head,  from  the  thickness  of  a 
stout  man's  body  at  the  base  to  the  slenderness  of  a 
whip-lash  at  the  end.  On  their  inner  sides  they  are 
studded  with  saucer-like  hollows,  each  of  which  has 
a  fringe  of  curving  claws  set  just  within  its  rim.  So 
that  in  addition  to  their  power  of  holding  on  to  any- 
thing they  touch  by  a  suction  so  severe  that  it  would 
strip  flesh  from  bone,  these  cruel  claws,  large  as  those 
of  a  full-grown  tiger's,  get  to  work  upon  the  subject 
being  held,  lacerating  and  tearing  until  the  quivering 
body  yields  up  its  innermost  secrets.     Each  of  these 

217 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

destroying,  serpent-like  arms  is  also  gifted  with  an 
almost  independent  power  of  volition.  Whatever  it 
touches  it  holds  with  an  unreleasable  grip,  but  with 
wonderful  celerity  it  brings  its  prey  inwards  to  where, 
in  the  centre  of  all  those  infernal  purveyors  lies  a  black 
chasm,  whose  edges  are  shaped  like  the  upper  and 
lower  mandibles  of  a  parrot,  and  these  complete  the 
work  so  well  begun.  The  outliers,  those  two  far- 
reaching  tentacles,  unlike  the  busy  eight,  are  com- 
paratively slender  from  their  bases  to  near  (within  two 
feet  or  so  of)  their  ends.  There  they  expand  into 
broad  paddle-like  masses,  thickly  studded  with  ace- 
tabulce,  those  holding  sucking-discs  that  garnish  the 
inner  arms  for  their  entire  length.  So,  thus  armed, 
this  nightmare  monstrosity  crouches  in  the  darkling 
depths  of  ocean,  like  some  unimaginable  web,  whereof 
every  line  is  alive  to  hold  and  tear.  Its  digestion  is 
like  a  furnace  of  dissolution,  needing  a  continual  in- 
flow of  flesh,  and  nothing  living  that  inhabits  the  sea 
comes  amiss  to  its  never-satisfied  cravings.  It  is  very 
near  the  apex  of  the  pyramid  of  interdependence  into 
which  sea-life  is  built,  but  not  quite.  For  at  the  sum- 
mit is  the  sperm  whale,  the  monarch  of  all  seas,  whom 
man  alone  is  capable  of  meeting  in  fair  fight  and  over- 
coming. 

The  head  of  the  sperm  whale  is  of  heroic  size,  being 
in  bulk  quite  one-third  of  the  entire  body,  but  in  addi- 
tion to  its  size  it  has  characteristics  that  fit  it  peculiarly 
to  compete  with  such  a  dangerous  monster  as  the 
gigantic  decapod.  Imagine  a  solid  block  of  crude 
indiarubber,  between  twenty  and  thirty  feet  in  length, 

218 


The  Last  Stand  of  the  Decapods 

and  eight  feet  through,  in  shape  not  at  all  unlike  a 
railway-carriage,  but  perfectly  smooth  in  surface.  Fit 
this  mass  beneath  with  a  movable  shaft  of  solid  bone, 
twenty  feet  in  length,  studded  with  teeth,  each  pro- 
truding nine  inches,  and  resembling  the  points  of  an 
elephant's  tusks.  You  will  then  have  a  fairly  com- 
plete notion  of  the  equipment  with  which  the  ocean 
monarch  goes  into  battle  against  the  Kraken.  And 
behind  it  lies  the  warm  blood  of  the  mammal,  the 
massive  framework  of  bone  belonging  to  the  highly 
developed  vertebrate  animal,  governed  by  a  brain  im- 
pelled by  irresistible  instinct  to  seek  its  sustenance 
where  alone  it  can  be  found  in  sufficiently  satisfying 
bulk.  And  there  for  you  are  the  outlines  of  the  high- 
est form  of  animal  warfare  existing  within  our  ken,  a 
conflict  of  Titans,  to  which  a  combat  between  ele- 
phants and  rhinoceri  in  the  jungle  is  but  as  the  play 
of  schoolboys  compared  with  the  gladiatorial  combats 
of  Ancient  Rome. 

This  somewhat  lengthy  preamble  is  necessary  in 
order  to  clear  the  way  for  an  account  of  the  proceed- 
ings leading  up  to  the  final  subjugation  of  the  huge 
molluscs  of  the  elder  slime  to  the  needs  of  the  great 
vertebrates  like  the  whales,  who  were  gradually 
emerging  into  a  higher  development,  and,  finding 
new  wants  oppressing  them,  had  to  obey  the  universal 
law,  and  fight  for  the  satisfaction  of  their  urgent  needs. 
Fortunately,  the  period  with  which  we  have  to  deal 
was  before  chronology,  so  that  we  are  not  hampered 
by  dates ;  and,  as  the  disposition  of  sea  and  land,  except 
in  its  main  features,  was  altogether  different  to  what 

219 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

we  have  long  been  accustomed  to  regard  as  the  always- 
existing  geographical  order  of  things,  we  need  not  be 
greatly  troubled  by  place  considerations  either.  What 
must  be  considered  as  the  first  beginning  of  the  long 
struggle  occurred  when  some  predecessors  of  the  pres- 
ent sperm  whales,  wandering  through  the  vast  mo- 
rasses and  among  the  sombre  forests  of  that  earlier 
world,  were  compelled  to  recognize  that  the  conditions 
of  shore  life  were  rapidly  becoming  too  onerous  for 
them.  Their  immensely  weighty  bodies,  lumbering 
slowly  as  a  seal  over  the  rugged  land  surface,  handi- 
capped them  more  and  more  in  the  universal  busi- 
ness of  life,  the  procuring  of  food.  Not  only  so,  but 
as  by  reason  of  their  slowness  they  were  confined  for 
hunting-grounds  to  a  very  limited  area,  the  slower 
organism  upon  which  their  vast  appetites  were  fed 
grew  scarcer  and  scarcer,  in  spite  of  the  fecundity  of 
that  prolific  time.  And  in  proportion  as  they  found 
it  more  and  more  difficult  to  get  a  living,  so  did  their 
enemies  grow  more  numerous  and  bolder.  Vast 
dragon-like  shapes,  clad  in  complete  armour  that 
clanged  as  the  wide-spreading  bat-wings  bore  them 
swiftly  through  the  air,  descended  upon  the  sluggish 
whales,  and  with  horrid  rending  by  awful  shear-shaped 
jaws,  plentifully  furnished  with  foot-long  teeth,  speed- 
ily stripped  from  their  gigantic  bodies  the  masses  of 
succulent  flesh.  Other  enemies,  weird  of  shape  and 
swift  of  motion  although  confined  to  the  earth,  fas- 
tened also  upon  the  easily  attainable  prey  that  provided 
flesh  in  such  bountiful  abundance,  and  was  unable  to 
fight  or  flee. 

220 


The  Last  Stand  of  the  Decapods 

Well  was  it,  then,  for  the  whales  that,  living  always 
near  the  sea,  they  had  formed  aquatic  habits,  finding 
in  the  limpid  element  a  medium  wherein  their  huge 
bulk  was  rather  a  help  than  a  hindrance  to  them. 
Gradually  they  grew  to  use  the  land  less  and  less  as 
they  became  more  and  more  accustomed  to  the  food 
provided  in  plenty  by  the  inexhaustible  ocean.  Con- 
tinual practice  enabled  them  to  husband  the  supplies 
of  air  which  they  took  in  on  the  surface  for  use  be- 
neath the  waves;  and,  better  still,  they  found  that 
whereas  they  had  been  victims  to  many  a  monster  on 
land  whose  proportions  and  potentialities  seemed  far 
inferior  to  their  own,  here  in  their  new  element  they 
were  supreme,  nothing  living  but  fled  from  before 
them.  But  presently  a  strange  thing  befell  them.  As 
they  grew  less  and  less  inclined  to  use  the  dry  land, 
they  found  that  their  powers  of  locomotion  thereon 
gradually  became  less  and  less  also,  until  at  last  their 
hind  legs  dwindled  away  and  disappeared.  Their  vast 
and  far-reaching  tails  lost  their  length,  and  their  bones 
spread  out  laterally  into  flexible  fans  of  toughest  gris- 
tle, with  which  they  could  propel  themselves  through 
the  waves  at  speeds  to  which  their  swiftest  progress 
upon  land  had  been  but  a  snail's  crawl.  Also  their  fore 
legs  grew  shorter  and  wider,  and  the  separation  of 
the  toes  disappeared,  until  all  that  was  left  of  these 
once  ponderous  supports  were  elegant  fan-like  flippers 
of  gristle,  of  not  the  slightest  use  for  propulsion,  but 
merely  acting  as  steadying-vanes  to  keep  the  whole 
great  structure  in  its  proper  position  according  to  the 
will  of  the  owner.    All  these  radical  physical  changes, 

221 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

however,  had  not  affected  the  real  classification  of  the 
whales.  They  were  still  mammals,  still  retained  in  the 
element  which  was  now  entirely  their  habitat  the  high 
organization  belonging  to  the  great  carnivora  of  the 
land.  Therefore  it  took  them  no  long  period  of  time 
to  realize  that  in  the  ocean  they  would  be  paramount, 
that  with  the  tremendous  facilities  for  rapid  move- 
ment afforded  them  by  their  new  habitat  they  were 
able  to  maintain  that  supremacy  against  all  comers, 
unless  their  formidable  armed  jaws  should  also  become 
modified  by  degeneration  into  some  such  harmless 
cavities  for  absorbing  food  as  are  possessed  by  their 
distant  relatives,  the  mysticetse,  or  toothless  whales. 

With  a  view  to  avoiding  any  such  disaster,  they 
made  good  use  of  their  jaws,  having  been  taught  by 
experience  that  the  simple  but  effectual  penalty  for 
the  neglect  of  any  function,  whether  physical  or  men- 
tal, was  the  disappearance  of  the  organs  where  such 
functions  had  been  performed.  But  their  energetic 
use  of  teeth  and  jaws  had  a  result  entirely  unfore- 
seen by  them.  Gradually  the  prey  they  sought,  the 
larger  fish  and  smaller  sea-mammals,  disappeared  from 
the  shallow  seas  adjacent  to  the  land,  from  whence  the 
whales  had  been  driven ;  and  in  order  to  satisfy  the 
demands  of  their  huge  stomachs,  they  were  fain  to 
follow  their  prey  into  deeper  and  deeper  waters,  meet- 
ing as  they  went  with  other  and  stranger  denizens 
of  those  mysterious  depths,  until  at  last  the  sperm 
whale  met  the  Kraken.  There  in  his  native  gloom, 
vast,  formless,  and  insatiable,  brooded  the  awful  Thing. 
Spread  like   a  living  net  whereof   every   mesh   was 

222 


The  Last  Stand  of  the   Decapods 

armed,  sensitive  and  lethal,  this  fantastic  complication 
of  horrors  took  toll  of  all  the  sea-folk,  needing  not  to 
pursue  its  prey,  needing  only  to  lie  still,  devour,  and 
grow.  Sometimes,  moved  by  mysterious  impulses, 
one  of  these  chimaeras  would  rise  to  the  sea-surface 
and  bask  in  the  beams  of  the  offended  sun,  poisoning 
the  surrounding  air  with  its  charnel-house  odours,  and 
occasionally  finding  within  the  never-resting  nervous 
clutching  of  its  tentacles  some  specimens  of  the  high- 
est, latest  product  of  creation,  man  himself.  Ages  of 
such  experiences  as  these  had  left  the  Kraken  defence- 
less as  to  his  body.  The  absence  of  any  necessity  for 
exertion  had  arrested  the  development  of  a  back- 
bone ;  the  inability  of  any  of  the  sea-people  to  retaliate 
upon  their  sateless  foe  had  made  him  neglect  any  of 
those  precautions  that  weaker  organisms  had  provided 
themselves  with,  and  even  the  cloud  of  sepia  with 
which  all  the  race  were  provided,  and  which  often 
assisted  the  innocent  and  weaker  members  of  the  same 
great  family  to  escape,  was  only  used  by  these  masters 
of  the  sea  to  hide  their  monstrous  lures  from  their 
prey. 

Thus  on  a  momentous  day  a  ravenous  sperm  whale, 
hunting  eagerly  for  wherewithal  to  satisfy  his  crav- 
ing, suddenly  found  himself  encircled  by  many  long, 
cable-like  arms.  They  clung,  they  tore,  they  sucked. 
But  whenever  a  stray  end  of  them  flung  itself  across 
the  bristling  parapet  of  the  whale's  lower  jaw  it  was 
promptly  bitten  off,  and  a  portion  having  found  its  way 
down  into  the  craving  stomach  of  the  big  mammal,  it 
was  welcomed  as  good  beyond  all  other  food  yet  en- 

223 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

countered.  Once  this  had  been  realized,  what  had 
originally  been  an  accidental  entrapping  changed  itself 
into  a  vigorous  onslaught  and  banquet.  True,  the 
darkness  fought  for  the  mollusc,  but  that  advantage 
was  small  compared  with  the  feeling  of  incompetence, 
of  inability  to  make  any  impression  upon  this  mighty 
impervious  mass  that  was  moving  as  freely  amid  the 
clinging  embarrassments  of  those  hitherto  invincible 
arms  as  if  they  were  only  fronds  of  sea-weed.  And 
then  the  foul  mass  of  the  Kraken  found  itself,  contrary 
to  all  previous  experience,  rising  involuntarily,  being 
compelled  to  leave  its  infernal  shades,  and,  without 
any  previous  preparation  for  such  a  change  of  pres- 
sure, to  visit  the  upper  air.  The  fact  was  that  the 
whale,  finding  its  stock  of  air  exhausted,  had  put  forth 
a  supreme  effort  to  rise,  and  found  that,  although  un- 
able to  free  himself  from  those  enormous  cables,  he 
was  actually  competent  to  raise  the  whole  mass.  What 
an  upheaval!  Even  the  birds  that,  allured  by  the 
strong  carrion  scent,  were  assembling  in  their  thou-- 
sands,  fled  away  from  that  appalling  vision,  their  wild 
screams  of  affright  filling  the  air  with  lamentation. 
The  tormented  sea  foamed  and  boiled  in  wide-spread- 
ing whirls,  its  deep  sweet  blue  changed  into  an  un- 
healthy nondescript  tint  of  muddy  yellow  as  the  wide 
expanse  of  the  Kraken's  body  yielded  up  its  corrupt 
fluids,  and  the  healthful  breeze  did  its  best  to  disperse 
the  bad  smells  that  rose  from  the  ugly  mass.  Then  the 
whale,  having  renewed  his  store  of  air,  settled  down 
seriously  to  the  demolition  of  his  prize.  Length  after 
length  of  tentacle  was  torn  away  from  the  central 

224 


The  Last  Stand  of  the  Decapods 

crown  and  swallowed,  gliding  down  the  abysmal  throat 
of  the  gratified  mammal  in  snaky  convolutions  until 
even  that  great  store-room  would  contain  no  more. 
The  vanquished  Kraken  lay  helplessly  rolling  upon 
the  wave  while  its  conqueror  in  satisfied  ease  lolled 
near,  watching  with  good-humoured  complacency  the 
puny  assault  made  upon  that  island  of  gelatinous  flesh 
by  the  multitude  of  smaller  hungry  things.  The  birds 
returned,  reassured,  and  added  by  their  clamour  to  the 
strangeness  of  the  scene,  where  the  tribes  of  air  and 
sea,  self-bidden  to  the  enormous  banquet,  were  mak- 
ing full  use  of  their  exceptional  privilege.  So  the  great 
feast  continued  while  the  red  sun  went  down  and  the 
white  moon  rose  in  placid  beauty.  Yet  for  all  the  com- 
bined assaults  of  those  hungry  multitudes  the  tena- 
cious life  of  that  largest  of  living  things  lay  so  deeply 
seated  that  when  the  rested  whale  resumed  his  atten- 
tions he  found  the  body  of  his  late  antagonist  still 
quivering  under  the  attack  of  his  tremendous  jaws. 
But  its  proportions  were  so  immense  that  his  utmost 
eflforts  left  store  sufficient  for  at  least  a  dozen  of  his 
companions,  had  they  been  there,  to  have  satisfied 
their  hunger  upon.  And,  satisfied  at  last,  he  turned 
away,  allowing  the  smaller  fry,  who  had  waited  his 
pleasure  most  respectfully,  to  close  in  again  and  finish 
the  work  he  had  so  well  begun. 

Now,  this  was  a  momentous  discovery  indeed,  for 
the  sperm  whales  had  experienced,  even  when  fish  and 
seals  were  plentiful,  great  difficulty  in  procuring  suf- 
ficient food  at  one  time  for  a  full  meal,  and  the  prob- 
lem of  how  to  provide  for  themselves  as  they  grew 

22$ 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

and  multiplied  had  become  increasingly  hard  to  solve. 
Therefore  this  discovery  filled  the  fortunate  pioneer 
with  triumph,  for  his  high  instincts  told  him  that  he 
had  struck  a  new  source  of  supply  that  promised  to 
be  inexhaustible.  So,  in  the  manner  common  to  his 
people,  he  wasted  no  time  in  convening  a  gathering 
of  them  as  large  as  could  be  collected.  Far  over  the 
placid  surface  of  that  quiet  sea  lay  gently  rocking  a 
multitude  of  vast  black  bodies,  all  expectant,  all  await- 
ing the  momentous  declaration  presently  to  be  made. 
The  epoch-making  news  circulated  among  them  in 
perfect  silence,  for  to  them  has  from  the  earliest  times 
been  known  the  secret  that  is  only  just  beginning  to 
glimmer  upon  the  verge  of  human  intelligence,  the 
ability  to  communicate  with  one  another  without  the 
aid  of  speech,  sight,  or  touch — a  kind  of  thought  trans- 
ference, if  such  an  idea  as  animal  thought  may  be  held 
allowable.  And  having  thus  learned  of  the  treasures 
held  in  trust  for  them  by  the  deep  waters,  they  sepa- 
rated and  went,  some  alone  and  some  in  compact 
parties  of  a  dozen  or  so,  upon  their  rejoicing  way. 

But  among  the  slimy  hosts  of  the  gigantic  Mol- 
lusca  there  was  raging  a  sensation  unknown  before — a 
feeling  of  terror,  of  insecurity  born  of  the  knowledge 
that  at  last  there  had  appeared  among  them  a  being 
proof  against  the  utmost  pressure  of  their  awful  arms, 
who  was  too  great  to  be  devoured,  who,  on  the  other 
hand,  had  evinced  a  greedy  partiality  for  devouring 
them.  How  this  information  became  common  prop- 
erty among  them  it  is  impossible  to  say,  since  they 
dwelt  alone,  each  in  his  own  particular  lair,  rigidly  re- 

226 


The  Last  Stand  of  the  Decapods 

spected  by  one  another,  because  any  intrusion  upon 
another's  domains  was  invariably  followed  by  the  ab- 
sorption of  either  the  intruder  or  the  intruded  upon  by 
the  stronger  of  the  two.  This,  although  not  intended 
by  them,  had  the  effect  of  vastly  heightening  the  fear 
with  which  they  were  regarded  by  the  smaller  sea-folk, 
for  they  took  to  a  restless  prowling  along  the  sea-bed, 
enwreathing  themselves  about  the  mighty  bases  of  the 
islands,  and  invading  cool  coral  caverns  where  their 
baleful  presence  had  been  till  then  unknown.  Never 
before  had  there  been  such  a  panic  among  the  multi- 
tudinous sea-populations.  What  could  this  new  por- 
tent signify  ?  Were  the  foundations  of  the  great  deep 
again  about  to  be  broken  up,  and  the  sea-bed  heaved 
upward  to  replace  the  tops  of  the  towering  mountains 
on  dry  land  ?  There  was  no  reply,  for  there  were  none 
that  could  answer  questions  like  these. 

Still  the  fear-smitten  decapods  wandered,  seeking 
seclusion  from  the  coming  enemy,  and  finding  none 
to  their  mind.  Still  the  crowds  of  their  victims  rushed 
blindly  from  shoal  to  shoal,  plunging  into  depths  un- 
fitted for  them,  or  rising  into  shallows  where  their 
natural  food  was  not.  And  the  whole  sea  was  troubled, 
until  at  last  there  appeared,  grim  and  vast,  the  ad- 
vance-guard of  the  sperm  whales,  and  hurled  itself 
with  joyful  anticipation  upon  the  shrinking  convolu- 
tions of  those  hideous  monsters  that  had  so  long 
dominated  the  dark  places  of  the  sea.  For  the  whales 
it  was  a  time  of  feasting  hitherto  without  parallel. 
Without  any  fear,  uncaring  to  take  even  the  most  ele- 
mentary precautions  against  a  defeat  which  they  felt 

227 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

to  be  an  impossible  contingency,  they  sought  out  and 
devoured  one  after  another  of  these  vast  ughnesses, 
already  looked  upon  by  them  as  their  natural  pro- 
vision, their  store  of  food  accumulated  of  purpose 
against  their  coming.  Occasionally,  it  is  true,  some 
rash  youngster,  full  of  pride,  and  rejoicing  in  his  pre- 
eminence over  all  life  in  the  depths,  would  hurl  him- 
self into  a  smoky  network  of  far-spreading  tentacles 
which  would  wrap  him  round  so  completely  that  his 
jaws  were  fast  bound  together,  his  flukes  would  vainly 
essay  to  propel  him  any  whither,  and  he  would  pres- 
ently perish  miserably,  his  cable-like  sinews  falling 
slackly  and  his  lungs  suffused  with  crimson  brine. 
Even  then,  the  advantage  gained  by  the  triumphant 
Kraken  was  a  barren  one,  for  in  every  case  the  bulk 
of  the  victim  was  too  great,  his  body  too  firm  in  its 
build,  for  the  victor,  despite  his  utmost  efforts,  to  suc- 
ceed in  devouring  his  prize.  So  that  the  disappointed 
Kraken  had  perforce  to  witness  the  gradual  disap- 
pearance of  his  lawful  prize  beneath  the  united  efforts 
of  myriads  of  tiny  sea-scavengers,  secure  in  their  in- 
significance against  any  attack  from  him,  and  await 
with  tremor  extending  to  the  remotest  extremity  of 
every  tentacle,  the  retribution  that  he  felt  sure  would 
speedily  follow. 

This  desultory  warfare  was  waged  for  long,  until, 
driven  by  despair  to  a  community  of  interest  unknown 
before,  the  Krakens  gradually  sought  one  another  out 
with  but  a  single  idea — that  of  combining  against  the 
new  enemy ;  for,  knowing  to  what  an  immense  size 
their  kind  could  attain  in  the  remoter  fastnesses  of 

228 


The  Last  Stand  of  the  Decapods 

ocean,  they  could  not  yet  bring  themselves  to  believe 
that  they  were  to  become  the  helpless  prey  of  these 
new-comers,  visitors  of  yesterday,  coming  from  the 
cramped  acreage  of  the  land  into  the  limitless  fields  of 
ocean,  and  invading  the  immemorial  freeholds  of  its 
hitherto  unassailable  sovereigns.  From  the  remotest 
recesses  of  the  ocean  they  came,  that  grisly  gathering 
—came  in  ever-increasing  hosts,  their  silent  progress 
spreading  unprecedented  dismay  among  the  fairer 
inhabitants  of  the  sea.  Figure  to  yourselves,  if  you 
can,  the  advance  of  this  terrible  host.  But  the  effort  is 
vain.  Not  even  Martin,  that  frenzied  delineator  of 
the  frightful  halls  of  hell,  the  scenes  of  the  Apocalypse, 
and  the  agonies  of  the  Deluge,  could  have  done  jus- 
tice to  the  terrors  of  such  a  scene.  Only  dimly  can  we 
imagine  what  must  have  been  the  appearance  of  those 
vast  masses  of  writhing  flesh,  as  through  the  palely 
gleaming  phosphorescence  of  the  depths  they  sped 
backwards  in  leaps  of  a  hundred  fathoms  each,  their 
terrible  arms,  close-clustered  together,  streaming  be- 
hind like  Medusa's  hair  magnified  ten  thousand  times 
in  size,  and  with  each  snaky  tress  bearing  a  thousand 
mouths  instead  of  one. 

So  they  converged  upon  the  place  of  meeting,  an 
area  of  the  sea-bed  nowhere  more  than  500  fathoms  in 
depth,  from  whose  rugged  floor  rose  irregularly  stu- 
pendous columnar  masses  of  lava  hurled  upwards  by 
the  cosmic  forces  below  in  a  state  of  incandescence 
and  solidified  as  they  rose,  assuming  many  fantastic 
shapes,  and  affording  perfect  harbourage  to  such  dire 
scourges  of  the  sea  as  were  now  making  the  place  their 


16 


229 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

rendezvous.  For,  strangely  enough,  this  marvellous 
portion  of  the  submarine  world  was  more  densely 
peopled  with  an  infinite  variety  of  sea-folk  than  any 
other ;  its  tepid  waters  seemed  to  bring  forth  abun- 
dantly of  all  kinds  of  fish,  Crustacea,  and  creeping 
things.  Sharks  in  all  their  fearsome  varieties  prowled 
greasily  about,  scenting  for  dead  things  whereon  to 
gorge,  shell-fish  from  the  infinitesimal  globigerina  up 
to  the  gigantic  clam  whose  shells  were  a  yard  each  in 
diameter;  crabs,  lobsters,  and  other  freakish  varieties 
of  Crustacea  of  a  size  and  ugliness  unknown  to  day 
lurked  in  every  crevice,  while  about  and  among  all 
these  scavengers  flitted  the  happy,  lovely  fish  in 
myriads  of  glorious  hues  matching  the  tender  shades 
of  the  coral  groves  that  sprang  from  the  summits  of 
those  sombre  lava  columns  beneath.  Hitherto  this 
happy  hunting-ground  had  not  been  invaded  by  the 
sea-mammals.  None  of  the  air-breathing  inhabitants 
of  the  ocean  had  ventured  into  its  gloomy  depths,  or 
sought  their  prey  among  the  blazing  shallows  of  the 
surface-reefs,  although  no  more  favourable  place  for 
their  exertions  could  possibly  have  been  selected  over 
all  the  wide  sea.  It  had  long  been  a  favourite  haunt  of 
the  Kraken,  for  whom  it  was,  as  aforesaid,  an  ideal 
spot,  but  now  it  was  to  witness  a  sight  unparalleled 
in  ocean  history.  Heralded  by  an  amazing  series  of 
under-waves,  the  gathering  of  monsters  drew  near. 
They  numbered  many  thousands,  and  no  one  in  all 
their  hosts  was  of  lesser  magnitude  than  sixty  feet 
long  by  thirty  in  girth  of  body  alone.  From  that  size 
they  increased  until  some — the  acknowledged  leaders 

230 


The  Last  Stand  of  the  Decapods 

— discovered  themselves  like  islands,  their  cylindiical 
carcases  huge  as  that  of  an  ocean  liner,  and  their  ten- 
tacles capable  of  overspreading  an  entire  village. 

In  concentric  rings  they  assembled,  all  heads  point- 
ing outward,  the  mightiest  within,  and  four  clear 
avenues  through  the  circles  left  for  coming  and  going. 
Contrary  to  custom,  but  by  mutual  consent,  all  the 
tentacles  lay  closely  arranged  in  parallel  lines,  not  out- 
spread to  every  quarter  of  the  compass,  and  all  a-work. 
They  looked,  indeed,  in  their  inertia  and  silence,  like 
nothing  so  much  as  an  incalculable  number  of  dead 
squid  of  enormous  size  neatly  laid  out  at  the  whim  of 
some  giant's  fancy.  Yet  communication  between  them 
was  active ;  a  subtle  interchange  of  experiences  and 
plans  went  briskly  on  through  the  medium  of  the 
mobile  element  around  them.  The  elder  and  mightier 
were  full  of  disdain  at  the  reports  they  were  furnished 
with,  utterly  incredulous  as  to  the  ability  of  any  cre- 
ated thing  to  injure  them,  and,  as  the  time  wore  on,  an 
occasional  tremor  was  distinctly  noticeable  through 
the  whole  length  of  their  tentacles,  which  boded  no 
good  to  their  smaller  brethren.  Doubtless  but  little 
longer  was  needed  for  the  development  of  a  great  ab- 
sorption of  the  weaker  by  the  stronger,  only  that,  dart- 
ing into  their  midst  like  a  lightning  streak,  came  a 
messenger  squid,  bearing  the  news  that  a  school  of 
sperm  whales,  numbering  at  least  ten  thousand,  were 
coming  at  top-speed  direct  for  their  place  of  meeting. 
Instantly  to  the  farthest  confines  of  that  mighty  gath- 
ering the  message  radiated,  and  as  if  by  one  movement 
there  uprose  from  the  sea-bed  so  dense  a  cloud  of 

231 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

sepia  that  for  many  miles  around  the  clear  blue  of  the 
ocean  became  turbid,  stagnant,  and  foul.  Even  ihe 
birds  that  hovered  over  those  dark-brown  waves  took 
fright  at  this  terrible  phenomenon,  to  them  utterly 
incomprehensible,  and  with  discordant  shrieks  they 
fled  in  search  of  sweeter  air  and  cleaner  sea.  But  be- 
low the  surface  under  cover  of  this  thickest  darkness 
there  was  the  silence  of  death. 

Twenty  miles  away,  under  the  bright  sunshine,  an 
advance-guard  of  about  a  hundred  sperm  whales  came 
rushing  on.  Line  abreast,  their  bushy  breath  rising 
like  the  regular  steam-jets  from  a  row  of  engines,  they 
dashed  aside  the  welcoming  wavelets,  every  sense 
alert,  and  full  of  eagerness  for  the  consummation  of 
their  desires.  Such  had  been  their  despatch  that 
throughout  the  long  journey  of  500  leagues  they  had 
not  once  stayed  for  food,  so  that  they  were  ravenous 
with  hunger  as  well  as  full  of  fight.  They  passed,  and 
before  the  foaming  of  their  swift  passage  had  ceased, 
the  main  body,  spread  over  a  space  of  thirty  miles, 
came  following  on,  the  roar  of  their  multitudinous 
march  sounding  like  the  voice  of  many  waters.  Sud- 
denly the  advance-guard,  with  stately  elevation  of  the 
broad  fans  of  their  flukes,  disappeared,  and  by  one  im- 
pulse the  main  body  followed  them.  Down  into  the 
depths  they  bore,  noting  with  dignified  wonder  the  ab- 
sence of  all  the  usual  inhabitants  of  the  deep,  imtil, 
with  a  thrill  of  joyful  anticipation  which  set  all  their 
masses  of  muscle  a-quiver,  they  recognized  the  scent 
of  the  prey.  No  thought  of  organized  resistance  pre- 
sented itself ;  without  a  halt,  or  even  the  faintest  slack- 

232 


The   Last  Stand  of  the  Decapods 

ening  of  their  great  rush,  they  plunged  forward  into 
the  abysmal  gloom ;  down,  down  withal  into  that  wil- 
derness of  waiting  devils.  And  so,  in  darkness  and 
silence  like  that  of  the  beginning  of  things,  this  great 
battle  was  joined.  Whale  after  whale  succumbed,  an- 
chored to  the  bottom  by  such  bewildering  entangle- 
ments, such  enlacement  of  tentacles,  that  their  vast 
strength  was  helpless  to  free  them ;  their  jaws  were 
bound  hard  together,  and  even  the  wide  sweep  of  their 
flukes  gat  no  hold  upon  the  slimy  water.  But  the 
Decapods  were  in  evil  case.  Assailed  from  above 
while  their  groping  arms  writhed  about  below,  they 
found  themselves  more  often  locked  in  unreleasable 
hold  of  their  fellows  than  they  did  of  their  enemies. 
And  the  quick-shearing  jaws  of  those  enemies 
shredded  them  into  fragments,  made  nought  of  their 
bulk,  revelled  and  frolicked  among  them,  slaying,  de- 
vouring, exulting.  Again  and  again  the  triumphant 
mammals  drew  off  for  air  and  from  satiety,  went  and 
lolled  upon  the  sleek  oily  surface,  in  water  now  so 
thick  that  the  fiercest  hurricane  that  ever  blew  would 
have  failed  to  raise  a  wave  thereon. 

So  through  a  day  and  a  night  the  slaying  ceased 
not,  except  for  these  brief  interludes,  until  those  of  the 
Decapods  left  alive  had  disentangled  themselves  from 
the  debris  of  their  late  associates  and  returned  with 
what  speed  they  might  to  depths  and  crannies,  where 
they  fondly  hoped  their  ravenous  enemies  could  never 
come.  They  bore  with  them  the  certain  knowledge 
that  from  henceforth  they  were  no  longer  lords  of  the 
sea,  that  instead  of  being,  as  hitherto,  devourers  of  all 

233 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

things  living  that  crossed  the  radius  of  their  outspread 
toils,  they  were  now  and  for  all  time  to  be  the  prey 
of  a  nobler  race  of  creatures,  a  higher  order  of  being, 
and  that  at  last  they  had  taken  their  rightful  position 
as  creatures  of  usefulness  in  the  vast  economy  of 
Creation. 


234 


THE    SIAMESE   LOCK 

Even  in  these  prosaic  days  of  palatial  passenger 
steamers,  running  upon  lines  from  port  to  port  almost 
ask  definite  as  railway  metals,  and  keeping  time  with 
far  more  regularity  than  some  railway  trains  that  it 
would  be  easy  to  name,  there  are  many  eddies  and 
backwaters  of  commerce  still  remaining  where  the 
romance  of  sea-traffic  retains  all  the  old  pre-eminence, 
and  events  occur  daily  that  are  stranger  than  any  fic- 
tion. 

Notably  is  this  the  case  on  the  Chinese  coast,  in 
whose  innumerable  creeks  and  bays  there  is  a  never- 
ceasing  ebb  and  flow  of  queer  craft,  manned  by  a  still 
queerer  assortment  of  Eastern  seafarers.  And  if  it 
were  not  for  that  strange  Lingua  Franca  of  the  Far 
East,  to  which  our  marvellous  language  lends  itself 
with  that  ready  adaptability  which  makes  it  one  of 
the  most  widely-spoken  in  the  world,  the  difficulties 
awaiting  the  white  man  who  is  called  upon  to  rule 
over  one  of  those  motley  crews  would  be  well-nigh  in- 
superable. As  it  is,  men  of  our  race  who  spend  any 
length  of  time  "  knocking  about "  in  Eastern  seas  al- 
ways acquire  an  amazing  melange  of  tongues,  which 
they  themselves  are  totally  unable  to  assign  to  their 
several  sources  of  origin,  even  if  they  ever  were  to 

235 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

seriously  undertake  such  a  task.  Needless,  perhaps,  to 
say  that  they  have  always  something  more  important 
on  hand  than  that.  At  least  I  had  when,  after  a  much 
longer  spell  ashore  in  Bangkok  than  I  cared  for,  I  one 
day  prevailed  upon  a  sturdy  German  skipper  to  ship 
me  as  mate  of  the  little  barque  he  commanded.  She 
flew  the  Siamese  flag,  and  belonged,  as  far  as  I  was 
ever  able  to  ascertain,  to  a  Chinese  firm  in  the  humid 
Siamese  capital,  a  sedate,  taciturn  trio  of  Celestials, 
who  found  it  well  worth  their  while  to  have  Europeans 
in  charge  of  her,  even  though  they  had  to  pay  a  long 
price  for  their  services.  My  predecessor  had  been  a 
"  towny  "  of  the  skipper's,  a  Norddeutscher  from  Ros- 
tock, who,  with  the  second  mate,  a  huge  Dane,  had 
been  with  the  skipper  in  the  same  vessel  for  over  two 
years.  On  the  last  voyage,  however,  during  his  watch 
on  deck,  while  off  the  Paracels,  he  had  silently  disap- 
peared, nor  was  the  faintest  inkling  of  his  fate  obtain- 
able. When  the  skipper  told  me  this  in  guttural  Ger- 
man-English, I  fancied  he  looked  as  if  his  air  of  indif- 
ference was  slightly  overdone,  but  the  fancy  did  not 
linger — I  was  too  busy  surmising  by  what  one  of  the 
many  possible  avenues  that  hapless  mate  had  strolled 
out  of  existence.  I  was  glad,  if  the  suggestion  of  glad- 
ness over  such  a  grim  business  be  admissible,  to  have 
even  this  scanty  information,  since  any  temptation  to 
taking  my  position  at  all  carelessly  was  thereby  effec- 
tually removed.  Before  coming  on  board  I  invested  a 
large  portion  of  my  advance  in  two  beautiful  six- 
shooters  and  a  good  supply  of  ammunition,  asking  no 
questions  of  the  joss-like  Chinaman  I  bought  them 

236 


The  Siamese  Lock 

from  as  to  how  he  became  possessed  of  two  U.  S.  Navy 
weapons  and  cartridges  to  match.  I  had,  besides,  a 
frightfully  dangerous  looking  little  kris,  only  about 
nine  inches  long  altogether,  but  inlaid  with  gold,  and 
tempered  so  that  it  would  almost  stab  into  iron.  I 
picked  it  up  on  the  beach  at  Hai-phong  six  months 
before,  but  had  only  thought  of  it  as  a  handsome  curio 
until  now. 

Thus  armed,  but  with  all  my  weapons  well  out  of 
sight,  I  got  aboard,  determined  to  take  no  more 
chances  than  I  could  help,  and  to  grow  eyes  in  the 
back  of  my  head  if  possible.  The  old  man  received 
me  as  cordially  as  he  was  able — which  isn't  saying 
vef}'  much — introduced  me  to  Mr.  Boyesen,  the  sec- 
ond mate,  and  proposed  a  glass  of  schnapps  and  a 
cheroot  while  we  talked  over  business.  I  was  by  no 
means  averse  to  this,  for  I  wanted  to  be  on  good  terms 
with  my  skipper,  and  I  also  had  a  strong  desire  upon 
me  to  know  more  about  the  kind  of  trade  we  were 
likely  to  be  engaged  in,  for  I  didn't  even  know  what 
the  cargo  was,  or  what  port  she  was  bound  to — the 
only  information  the  skipper  gave  me  when  I  shipped 
being  that  she  was  going  "  up  the  coast,"  and  this 
state  of  complete  ignorance  was  not  at  all  comfortable. 
I  hate  mystery,  especially  aboard  ship — it  takes  away 
my  appetite;  and  when  a  sailor's  oflF  his  feed  he  isn't 
much  good  at  his  work.  But  my  expectations  were 
cruelly  dashed,  for,  instead  of  becoming  confidential. 
Captain  Klenck  gave  me  very  clearly  to  understand 
that  no  one  on  board  the  Phrabayat — "  der  Frau  "  he 
called  her — but  himself  ever  knew  what  was  the  nature 

237 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

of  the  trade  she  was  engaged  in  or  what  port  she  was 
bound  to.  More  than  that,  he  told  me  very  plainly 
that  he  alone  kept  the  reckoning ;  the  second  mate 
and  myself  had  only  to  carry  out  his  instructions  as  to 
courses,  etc.,  and  that  so  long  as  we  kept  her  going 
through  our  respective  watches  as  he  desired,  he  was 
prepared  to  take  all  the  risk.  And  all  the  time  he 
was  unloading  this  stupefying  intelligence  upon  me, 
he  kept  his  beady  eyes  on  mine  as  if  he  would  read 
through  my  skull  the  nature  of  my  thoughts.  Had 
he  been  able  so  to  do,  they  would  have  afforded  him 
little  satisfaction,  for  they  were  in  such  a  ferment  that 
I  "  wanted  out,"  as  the  Scotch  say,  to  cool  down  a 
bit.  I  wanted  badly  to  get  away  from  Bangkok,  but 
I  would  have  given  all  I  had  to  be  ashore  there  again 
and  well  clear  of  the  berth  I  had  thought  myself  so 
lucky  to  get  a  day  or  two  ago.  But  that  was  out  of 
the  question.  The  old  man  helped  himself  to  another 
bosun's  nip  of  square-face,  and,  rising  as  he  shipped 
it,  said — 

"  Ve  ked  her  onder  vay  mit  vonce,  Meesder  Fawn, 
und  mindt  ju  keeb  dose  verdammt  schwein  coin 
shtrong.  Dey  vants  so  mooch  boot  as  dey  can  get, 
der  schelm." 

Glad  of  any  chance  of  action  to  divert  my  mind,  I 
answered  cheerily,  "  Ay,  ay,  sir !  "  and,  striding  out  of 
the  cabin,  I  shouted,  "  Man  the  windlass !  "  forgetting 
for  the  moment  that  I  was  not  on  board  one  of  my 
own  country's  ships,  free  from  mysteries  of  any  kind. 
My  mistake  was  soon  rectified,  and  for  the  next  hour 
or  so  I  kept  as  busy  as  I  knew  how,  getting  the  an- 

238 


The  Siamese  Lock 

chor  and  making  sail.  The  black,  olive,  and  yellow 
sailors  worked  splendidly,  being  bossed  by  a  "  serang  " 
or  **  bosun  "  of  herculean  build  and  undiscoverable 
nationality.  I  think  he  must  have  been  a  Dyak.  Now, 
it  has  always  been  my  practice  in  dealing  with  natives 
of  any  tropical  country  to  treat  them  as  men,  and  not, 
as  too  many  Europeans  do  to  their  loss,  behave  to- 
wards them  as  if  they  were  unreasoning  animals.  I 
have  always  found  a  cheery  word  and  a  smile  go  a  long 
way,  especially  with  negroes,  wherever  they  hail  from 
— and,  goodness  knows,  unless  you  are  liverish,  it  is 
just  as  easy  to  look  pleasant  as  glum.  At  any  rate, 
whether  that  was  the  cause  or  not,  the  work  went  on 
greased  wheels  that  forenoon,  and  I  felt  that  if  they 
were  all  the  colours  the  human  race  can  show,  I 
couldn't  wish  for  a  smarter  or  more  willing  crowd. 
When  she  was  fairly  under  way  and  slipping  down  to 
the  bar  at  a  good  rate,  I  went  aft  for  instructions,  find- 
ing the  old  man  looking  but  sourly  as  he  conned  her 
down  stream.  Before  I  had  time  to  say  anything  he 
opened  up  with — 

**  Bei  Gott,  Meesder  Fawn,  ju  haf  to  do  diflFnmt 
mit  dese  crout  ef  ju  vaunts  to  keep  my  schip  coin. 
I  tondt  vant  ter  begin  ter  find  fault,  but  I  ain't  coin 
to  haf  no  nicker-cottlin  abordt  de  Frau.  Ju  dake 
id  from  me." 

This  riled  me  badly,  for  I  knew  no  men  could  have 
worked  smarter  or  more  willingly  than  ours  had,  so  I 
replied  quietly,  "  Every  man  knows  his  work  and  does 
it,  Cap'n  Klenck.  I  know  mine,  and  I'll  do  it.  but  I 
must  do  it  my  own  way,  or  not  at  all.    If  you've  got 

239 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

any  fault  to  find,  find  it,  but  don't  expect  me  to  spoil 
a  decent  crew  and  chance  getting  a  kris  between  my 
brisket  bones  in  the  bargain." 

He  gave  me  one  look,  and  his  eyes  were  like  those 
of  a  dead  fish.  Then  he  walked  away,  leaving  me 
standing  simmering  with  rage.  But  no  more  was  said, 
and  at  dinner  he  seemed  as  if  he  had  forgotten  the 
circumstance.  And  I,  like  a  fool,  thought  he  had, 
for  the  wish  was  ever  father  to  the  thought  with  me, 
especially  in  a  case  of  this  kind,  where  what  little 
comfort  I  hoped  to  enjoy  was  entirely  dependent  upon 
the  skipper.  He,  astuteness  itself,  gave  no  sign  of  his 
feelings  towards  me,  being  as  civil  as  he  was  able  in 
all  our  business  relations ;  but  beyond  those  he  erected 
a  barrier  between  us,  all  the  more  impassable  because 
indefinite.  Thrown  thus  upon  my  own  resources,  I 
tried  to  cultivate  an  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Boyesen ; 
but  here  again  I  was  baffled,  for  he  was  the  greatest 
enigma  of  all.  I  never  knew  a  man  possessing  the 
power  of  speech  who  was  able  to  get  along  with  less 
use  of  that  essentially  human  faculty.  He  was  more 
like  a  machine  than  a  man,  seeming  to  be  incapable  of 
exhibiting  any  of  the  passions  or  affections  of  human- 
ity. I  have  seen  him  grasp  a  Siamese  sailor  by  the  belt 
and  hurl  him  along  the  deck  as  if  he  were  a  mere 
bundle  of  rags ;  but  for  any  expression  of  anger  in  his 
pale  blue  eyes  or  flush  upon  his  broad  face,  he  might 
as  well  have  been  a  figure-head.  So  that  after  a  brief 
struggle  with  his  immobility  I  gave  up  the  attempt  to 
make  a  companion  of  him,  coming  to  the  conclusion 
that  he  was  in  some  way  mentally  deficient. 

240 


The  Siamese  Lock 

Thus  I  was  perforce  driven  to  study  my  crew  more 
than  I  perhaps  should  have  done,  particularly  the  neat- 
handed,  velvet-footed  Chinese  steward.  Ah  Toy,  who, 
although  at  ordinary  times  quite  as  expressionless  as 
the  majority  of  his  countrymen,  generally  developed  a 
quaint  contortion  of  his  yellow  visage  for  me,  which, 
if  not  a  smile,  was  undoubtedly  meant  for  one.  We 
were  the  best  of  friends ;  so  great,  indeed,  that  when- 
ever I  heard  the  old  man  beating  him — that  is,  about 
once  a  day — I  felt  the  greatest  difficulty  in  restraining 
myself  from  interference.  I  was  comforted,  however, 
by  noticing  that  Ah  Toy  seemed  to  heed  these  whack- 
ings  no  more  than  as  if  he  had  been  made  of  rubber; 
he  never  uttered  a  cry  or  did  anything  but  go  on  with 
his  work  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  I  had  eight 
men  in  my  watch :  two  Chinese,  four  Siamese,  one 
Tagal,  and  a  Malay ;  a  queer  medley  enough,  but  all 
very  willing  and  apparently  contented.  For  some 
little  time  I  was  hard  put  to  it  to  gain  their  confidence, 
their  attitude  being  that  of  men  prepared  to  meet  with 
ill-treatment  and  to  take  the  earliest  opportunity  of 
resenting  it  (although  they  accepted  hearty  blows 
from  the  Serang's  colt  with  the  greatest  good  nature). 
But  gradually  this  sullen,  watchful  demeanour  wore 
off,  and  they  became  as  cheerful  a  lot  of  fellows  as  I 
could  wish,  ready  to  anticipate  my  wishes  if  they  could, 
and  as  anxious  to  understand  me  as  I  certainly  was 
them.  This  state  of  things  was  so  far  satisfactory  that 
the  time,  which  had  at  first  hung  very  heavily,  now 
began  to  pass  pleasantly  and  quickly,  although  I  slept, 
as  the  saying  is,  with  one  eye  open,  for  fear  of  some 

241 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

development  of  hostility  on  the  skipper's  part.  Be- 
cause, in  spite  of  my  belief  that  he  meant  me  no  ill, 
having,  indeed,  no  reason  to  do  so  as  far  as  I  knew,  I 
could  not  rid  myself  of  an  uneasy  feeling  in  my  mind 
that  all  was  not  as  it  should  be  with  him. 

We  had  wonderfully  fine  weather,  it  being  the 
N.E.  monsoon,  but  made  very  slow  progress,  the  ves- 
sel being  not  only  a  dull  sailer  at  the  best  of  times,  but 
much  hindered  by  the  head  wind.  This  tried  my 
patience  on  account  of  my  anxiety  to  get  some  inkling 
of  our  position,  which  the  old  man  kept  as  profound 
a  secret  as  if  millions  depended  upon  no  one  knowing 
it  but  himself.  And  although  we  sighted  land  occa- 
sionally, I  was  not  suflficiently  well  up  in  China  coast 
navigation  to  do  more  than  guess  at  the  position  of 
the  ship.  At  last,  when  we  had  been  a  fortnight  out, 
I  was  awakened  suddenly  in  my  watch  below  one 
night  by  the  sound  of  strange  voices  alongside.  I 
sprang  out  of  my  bunk  in  the  dark,  striking  my  head 
against  the  door,  which  I  always  left  open,  but  which 
was  now  closed  and  locked.  I  felt  as  I  should  imagine 
a  rat  feels  in  a  trap.  But  the  first  thrill  of  fear  soon 
gave  place  to  indignation  at  my  treatment,  and,  after 
striking  a  light,  I  set  my  back  against  the  door  and 
strove  with  all  my  might  to  burst  it  open.  Failing  in 
the  attempt,  I  remembered  my  little  bag  of  tools,  and 
in  a  few  seconds  had  a  screw-driver  at  work,  which 
not  only  released  me,  but  spoiled  the  lock  for  any 
future  use.  Of  course,  my  revolvers  were  about  me ;  I 
always  carried  them.  Still  hot  with  anger,  I  marched 
on  deck  to  find  the  ship  hove-to,  a  couple  of  junks 

242 


The  Siamese  Lock 

alongside,  the  hatches  off,  and  a  rapid  exchange  of 
cargo  going  on.  Silence  and  haste  were  evidently  the 
tnots  d'ordrc,  but,  besides,  the  workers  were  the  smart- 
est I  had  ever  seen ;  they  handled  the  stuff,  cases,  bags, 
and  bales  of  all  sorts  and  sizes,  with  a  celerity  that 
was  almost  magical.  I  stood  looking  on  like  a  fool  for 
quite  two  or  three  minutes,  in  which  every  detail  of  the 
strange  scene  became  indelibly  stamped  upon  my 
brain.  The  brilliant  flood  of  moonlight  paling  all  the 
adjacent  stars,  the  wide  silvern  path  of  the  moon  on 
the  dark  water  broken  by  a  glistening  sand-bank  over 
which  the  sullen  swell  broke  with  an  occasional  hol- 
low moan,  every  item  in  the  arrangement  of  the  sails, 
and  the  gliding  figures  on  deck ;  all  helped  to  make  a 
marvellous  picture.  The  brief  spell  was  broken  by 
a  hand  upon  my  shoulder  that  made  me  leap  three 
feet  forward.  It  was  the  skipper,  and  in  that  moment 
I  felt  how  helpless  I  was  if  this  man  desired  to  do  me 
hurt.  We  stood  facing  each  other  silently  for  a  breath 
or  two,  when  he  said  quietly — 

"  Meesder  Fawn,  I  tondt  vant  my  offcers  to  keeb 
only  dere  own  vatch.  I  nefer  make  dem  vork  ofer- 
dime.  Ven  ids  your  vatch  an  deg  yu  vill  be  gall  as 
ushal.    Goot  nacht,"  and  he  stood  aside  to  let  me  pass. 

"  But,  Captain  Klenck,"  I  blurted  out,  "  why  did 
you  lock  me  in  my  berth  ?  " 

"  Ey  good  man,  du  bist  nod  veil,  or  ellas  you  bin 
hafin  a — vat  you  call  im — night-pig,  ain'd  it  ?  "  Then, 
suddenly  changing  his  tone,  he  made  a  step  towards 
me,  and  said,  "  Go  below  mid  vonce,  er  I'm  tamt  ef 
ju  see  daylight  any  more  dis  foyge !  " 

2-13 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

To  tell  the  truth,  I  didn't  quite  see  my  way  to  defy- 
ing him.  I  felt  like  a  beastly  cur,  and  I  knew  there 
was  some  devilish  business  going  on,  but  the  whole 
thing  had  come  on  me  so  suddenly  that  I  was  unde- 
cided how  to  act,  and  indecision  in  such  a  predicament 
spells  defeat.  So  I  just  inclined  my  head  and  saun- 
tered off  to  my  cabin  in  a  pretty  fine  state  of  mind. 
Needless  to  say,  I  got  no  more  sleep.  A  thousand 
theories  ran  riot  in  my  brain  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
business  we  were  doing,  and  I  worried  myself  almost 
into  a  fever  wondering  whether  Boyesen  was  in  it.  By 
the  time  eight  bells  (four  a.m.)  was  struck  I  was  almost 
crazy,  a  vile  taste  in  my  mouth,  and  my  head  throb- 
bing like  a  piston.  The  quiet  appearance  of  Ah  Toy 
at  my  door  murmuring  "  eight  bell "  gave  me  relief, 
for  I  took  it  as  a  sign  that  I  might  reappear,  and  I 
wasted  no  time  getting  on  deck.  I  found  the  watch 
trimming  the  yards  under  the  skipper's  direction,  but 
no  sign  of  the  second  mate.  All  trace  of  the  junks  had 
vanished.  I  went  for'ard  to  trim  the  yards  on  the  fore 
by  way  of  slipping  into  my  groove,  and  being  in  that 
curious  mental  state  when  in  the  presence  of  over- 
whelmingly serious  problems  the  most  trivial  details 
demand  attention,  some  small  object  that  I  kicked 
away  in  the  darkness  insisted  upon  being  found  before 
I  did  anything  else.  It  only  lay  a  yard  or  two  in  front 
of  me,  a  key  of  barbarous  make  with  intricate  wards 
on  either  side.  Mechanically  I  picked  it  up  and 
dropped  it  in  my  pocket,  imagining  for  the  moment 
that  it  must  belong  to  one  of  the  seamen,  who  each 
had  some  sort  of  a  box  which  they  kept  carefully 

244 


The  Siamese  Lock 

locked.  Then  I  went  on  with  my  work,  getting  every- 
thing ship-shape  and  returning  to  the  poop.  The 
skipper  greeted  me  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  giving 
me  a  N.N.E.  course  if  she  would  lay  it,  and,  bidding 
me  call  him  at  once  in  the  event  of  any  change  taking 
place,  went  below. 

Left  alone  upon  the  small  poop  with  the  vessel 
calmly  gliding  through  the  placid  sea,  and  the  stead- 
fast stars  eyeing  me  solemnly,  I  felt  soothed  and  up- 
lifted. I  reviewed  the  situation  from  every  possible 
point  of  view  I  could  take  of  it,  until,  sick  and  weary 
of  the  vain  occupation,  I  unslung  a  bucket  and  went  to 
the  lee-side  with  the  intention  of  drawing  some  water 
to  cool  my  aching  head.  As  I  leaned  over  the  side 
I  saw  a  sampan  hanging  alongside,  and  a  figure  just 
in  the  act  of  coming  aboard.  By  this  time  I  was  al- 
most proof  against  surprises  of  any  kind,  so  I  quietly 
waited  until  the  visitor  stepped  over  the  rail,  and 
saluted  me  as  if  boarding  a  vessel  in  the  dark  while  she 
was  working  her  way  up  the  China  Sea  was  the  most 
ordinary  occurrence  in  the  world.  He  was  a  gigantic 
Chinaman,  standing,  I  should  think,  fully  6ft.  6in.  or 
6ft.  7in.,  and  built  in  proportion.  In  excellent  Eng- 
lish he  informed  me  that  he  had  business  with  Captain 
Klenck.  who  was  expecting  him.  and  without  further 
preliminary  walked  aft  and  disappeared  down  the 
cabin-companion  quietly  as  if  he  had  been  an  appari- 
tion. In  fact,  some  such  idea  flitted  across  my  mind, 
and  I  stepped  back  to  the  rail  and  peered  down  into 
the  darkness  alongside  to  see  if  the  sampan  was  a 
reality.  It  was  no  longer  there.  Like  one  in  a  dream 
»v  245 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

I  walked  aft  to  where  one  of  the  Siamese  stood  at  the 
wheel,  and  after  a  casual  glance  into  the  compass,  from 
sheer  force  of  habit,  I  asked  the  man  if  he  had  seen 
the  visitor.  He  answered,  "  Yes,"  in  a  tone  of  sur- 
prise, as  if  wondering  at  the  question.  Satisfied  that 
at  least  I  was  not  the  victim  of  some  disorder  of  the 
brain,  I  went  for'ard  again,  noting  with  a  sense  of  ut- 
most relief  the  paling  of  the  eastern  horizon  foretelling 
the  coming  of  the  day. 

No  one  realizes  more  than  a  sailor  what  a  blessing 
daylight  is.  In  a  gale  of  wind  the  rising  sun  seems  to 
lighten  anxiety,  and  the  prayer  of  Ajax  trembles  more 
frequently  upon  the  lips  of  seafarers  than  any  other. 
I  watched  the  miracle  of  dawn  with  fervent  thanks- 
giving, feeling  that  the  hateful  web  of  mystery  that 
was  hourly  increasing  in  complexity  around  me  would 
be  less  stifling  with  the  sun  upon  it.  And  in  the 
homely  duties  of  washing  decks,  "  sweating-up,"  etc., 
I  almost  forgot  that  I  was  not  in  an  orderly,  common- 
place English  ship,  engaged  in  honest  traffic.  The 
time  passed  swiftly  until  eight  bells,  when  a  double 
portion  of  horror  came  upon  me  at  the  sight  of 
Captain  Klenck  coming  on  deck  to  relieve  me. 
Before  I  knew  what  I  was  saying  I  had  blurted  out, 
"  Where's  Mr.  Boyesen  ?  "  The  cold,  expressionless 
eyes  of  the  skipper  rested  full  upon  me  as  he  replied 
slowly — 

"  Ju  tondt  seem  to  learn  mooch,  Meesder  Fawn.  I 
dells  ju  one  dime  more,  undt  only  one  dime,  dat  ju 
nodings  to  do  mit  der  peezness  auf  dis  scheep.  Ver- 
dammt  Englescher  schweinhund,  de  nexd  dime  ju  in- 

246 


The  Siamese  Lock. 

derferes  mit  mein  affaires  will  pe  der  lasd  dime  ju  efer 
do  anythings  in  dees  vorl'.    Co  pelow !  " 

Again  I  had  to  own  myself  beaten,  and  the  thought 
was  just  maddening.  To  be  trampled  on  like  a  coolie, 
abused  like  a  dog.  Great  heavens!  how  low  had  I 
fallen.  I  never  seemed  to  be  ready  or  able  to  keep  end 
up  when  that  man  chose  to  put  forth  his  will  against 
mine.  But,  unknown  even  to  myself,  I  was  being  edu- 
cated up  to  the  work  that  was  before  me,  and  the  train- 
ing was  just  what  was  necessary  for  me.  I  ate  my 
breakfast  alone,  Ah  Toy  waiting  on  me  with  almost 
affectionate  care.  Several  times  I  caught  his  eye,  and 
fancied  that  there  was  a  new  light  therein.  Once  I 
opened  my  mouth  to  speak  to  him,  but  his  finger  flew 
to  his  lips,  and  his  look  turned  swiftly  towards  the 
skipper's  berth,  that  closely-shut  room  of  which  I  had 
never  seen  the  inside.  As  soon  as  my  meal  was  over 
I  retreated  to  my  cabin,  closed  the  door,  and  busied 
myself  devising  some  means  of  fastening  it  on  the  in- 
side. For  now  I  felt  sure  that  for  some  reason  or  other 
Boyesen  had  been  made  away  with,  and  in  all  proba- 
bility my  turn  was  fast  approaching.  Is  it  necessary  to 
say  that  I  felt  no  want  of  sleep  ?  Perhaps  not ;  at  any 
rate,  I  spent  the  greater  part  of  my  watch  below  in 
such  preparations  as  I  could  make  for  self-defence. 
My  two  revolvers  now  seemed  precious  beyond  all 
computation  as  I  carefully  examined  them  in  every 
detail,  and  made  sure  they  were  ready  for  immediate 
use. 

While  thus  employed  a  sudden  appalling  uproar  on 
deck  sent  my  blood  surging  back  to  my  heart,  and, 

247 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

after  about  a  second's  doubt,  I  flung  wide  the  door  and 
rushed  on  deck,  flinging  off  Ah  Toy,  who  caught  at 
me  as  I  passed  his  pantry  door.  Springing  out  of  the 
cabin,  I  saw  the  colossal  Chinaman  who  had  boarded 
us  on  the  previous  night  standing  calmly  looking  on, 
while  the  crew  fought  among  themselves  with  a  sav- 
agery awful  to  witness.  I  did  not  see  the  skipper  at 
first,  but,  glancing  down,  I  caught  sight  of  his  face 
distorted  beyond  recognition  by  the  foot  of  the  huge 
Celestial,  which  was  planted  on  his  throat.  In  that 
moment  all  my  detestation  of  him  vanished.  He  was 
a  white  man  at  the  mercy  of  Mongols,  and  drawing  my 
revolvers,  I  sprang  towards  his  foe.  Click  went  the 
trigger,  but  there  was  no  flash  or  report.  Both  were 
alike  useless,  and  my  brain  working  quietly  enough 
now,  I  realized  that  the  man  I  would  have  saved  had 
rendered  my  weapons  useless  while  I  slept,  to  his  own 
bitter  cost.  Flinging  them  from  me,  I  snatched  at  a 
hand-spike  that  lay  at  my  feet;  but  before  I  could 
grasp  it  the  combatants  divided,  half  a  dozen  of  my 
watch  flung  themselves  upon  me,  and  in  a  minute  I 
was  overpowered.  Of  course  I  was  somewhat  roughly 
handled,  but  there  was  no  anger  against  me  in  the 
faces  of  my  assailants.  As  for  the  giant,  he  might  as 
well  have  been  carved  in  stone  for  all  the  notice  he 
appeared  to  take  of  what  was  going  on. 

Two  Siamese  carefully  lashed  me  so  that  I  could 
not  move,  then  carried  me,  not  at  all  roughly,  aft  to 
the  cabin  door,  and  sat  me  on  the  grating,  where  they 
left  me  and  returned  to  the  fight,  which  seemed  to  be  a 
life  and  death  struggle  between  two  parties  into  which 

248 


The  Siamese  Lock 

the  crew  were  divided.  I  have  no  taste  for  horrors, 
and  do  not  propose  serving  up  a  dish  of  them  here, 
although  the  temptation  to  describe  the  wild  beast 
fury  of  those  yellow  and  black  men  is  very  great.  But 
it  must  suffice  to  say  that  those  who  were  apparently 
friendly  to  me  were  the  victors,  and  having  disposed 
of  the  dead  by  summarily  flinging  them  overboard, 
they  busied  themselves  of  their  own  accord  in  trim- 
ming sail  so  as  to  run  the  vessel  in  towards  the  coast. 

Meanwhile,  the  gigantic  Chinaman,  whose  advent 
had  so  strangely  disturbed  the  business  of  our  skip- 
per, quietly  lifted  that  unhappy  German  as  if  he  had 
been  a  child,  and  carried  him  into  the  cabin.  Ah  Toy, 
doubtless  ordered  by  some  one  in  authority,  came  and 
set  me  free,  his  face  fairly  beaming  upon  me  as  he 
told  me  that  it  was  entirely  owing  to  my  humane  treat- 
ment of  the  fellows  that  my  life  had  been  spared.  To 
my  eager  questionings  as  to  what  was  going  to  be  done 
with  the  skipper  and  the  ship,  he  returned  me  but 
the  Shibboleth  of  the  East,  "  No  shabee  him ;  no 
b'long  my  pidgin." 

I  went  on  with  the  work  of  the  ship  as  usual,  find- 
ing the  survivors  quite  as  amenable  to  my  orders  as 
they  had  ever  been,  and  contenting  myself  with  keep- 
ing her  on  the  course  she  was  then  making  until  some 
way  of  taking  the  initiative  should  present  itself.  I 
had  gi\en  up  studying  the  various  problems  that  had 
so  recently  made  me  feel  as  if  I  had  gone  suddenly 
mad,  and  went  about  in  a  dull,  animalized  state,  too 
bewildered  to  think,  and  prepared  for  any  further  freak 
of  Fate.     While  thus  moodily  slouching  about,  Ah 

249 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

•Toy  came  on  deck  and  informed  me  that  the  huge 
Chinaman  was  anxious  to  see  me  in  the  cabin.  In- 
stinctively I  felt  that  whatever,  whoever  he  was,  I 
could  not  afford  to  offend  him,  so  I  went  on  the  in- 
stant, finding  him  sitting  in  the  main  cabin  contem- 
plating the  lifeless  body  of  Captain  Klenck,  which  lay 
on  the  deck  by  his  side.  Although  prepared  for  any- 
thing, as  I  thought,  I  could  not  repress  a  shudder  of 
horror  at  this  spectacle,  which  did  not  pass  unnoticed 
by  the  giant.  Turning  a  grave  look  upon  me,  he 
said,  in  easy,  polished  diction — 

"  This  piece  of  carrion  at  my  feet  had  been  my  paid 
servant  for  the  last  two  years.  He  was  necessary 
to  me,  but  not  indispensable,  and  he  fell  into  the  fatal 
error  of  supposing  that  not  only  could  I  not  do  with- 
out him,  but  that,  in  spite  of  the  enormous  salary  I 
paid  him,  he  could  rob  me  with  impunity.  I  am  the 
senior  partner  in  the  Bangkok  firm  owning  this  vessel, 
and  also  a  fleet  of  piratical  junks  that  range  these  seas 
from  Singapore  to  Hong  Kong,  and  prey  upon  other 
junks  mostly,  although  wherever  it  is  possible  they 
have  no  scruples  in  attacking  European  vessels.  It 
is  a  lucrative  business,  but  a  good  deal  of  business 
acumen  is  needed  in  order  to  dispose  of  the  plunder 
realized.  In  this  the  late  Captain  Klenck  was  a  very 
useful  man,  and,  knowing  this,  we  paid  him  so  well 
that  he  might  very  soon  have  realized  a  fortune  from 
his  salary  alone.  Now  my  men,  who,  as  you  have  seen, 
without  any  assistance  from  me,  have  easily  disposed 
of  the  gang  Klenck  had  engaged  to  further  his  ends, 
tell  me  that  they  are  very  fond  of  you.    They  say  that 

250 


The  Siamese  Lock 

you  have  treated  them  Hke  men,  of  your  own  free  will, 
and  I  am  prepared  to  oflfer  you  the  command  of  the 
Phrabayat  at  the  same  salary  as  Klenck  enjoyed. 
What  do  you  say  ?  " 

For  a  moment  I  was  stunned  at  the  story  told  me, 
and,  besides,  very  much  annoyed  because  I  hadn't  seen 
it  all  before.  It  looked  so  simple  now.  But  one  thing 
dominated  all  the  rest — who  or  what  was  this  suave, 
English  educated  Celestial,  who  trafficked  in  piracy 
and  yet  spoke  as  if  imbued  with  all  the  culture  of  the 
West  ?  He  actually  seemed  as  if  he  read  my  thoughts, 
for  with  something  approaching  a  smile  he  said — 

"  I  see  you  are  wondering  at  my  English.  I  am  a 
graduate  of  Cambridge  University,  and  was  at  one 
time  rather  lionized  in  certain  fashionable  circles  in 
London.  But  circumstances  made  it  necessary  for  me 
to  go  into  this  business,  which  pleases  me  very  well. 
You  have  not  yet  answered  my  question,  though." 

"  I  am  aware  that  I  run  considerable  risk  at  present 
by  so  doing,"  I  replied ;  "  but,  in  spite  of  that,  I  must 
give  you  an  unqualified  refusal.  I  am  rather  surprised 
at  your  offer!  " 

A  look  of  genuine  astonishment  came  over  his  face 
as  he  said,  "Why?  Surely  you  are  not  so  well  oflF 
that  you  can  afford  to  play  fast  and  loose  with  such  a 
prospect  as  I  hold  out  to  you  ?  " 

Then,  as  if  it  had  suddenly  dawned  upon  him.  he 
shrugged  his  shoulders  and  murmured,  "  I  suppose 
you  have  some  more  scruples.  Well,  I  do  not  under- 
stand them,  but  for  the  sake  of  my  foolish  men  I  sup- 
pose I  must  respect  them.    There  is  one  other  point, 

251 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

however,  upon  which  I  think  you  can  enlighten  me 
or  help  me.  This  carrion  here,"  and  he  kicked  con- 
temptuously at  the  skipper's  dead  body,  "  has  secreted 
quite  a  treasure  in  pearls  and  gold,  and  I  cannot  now 
compel  him  to  tell  me  where.  Did  you  enjoy  his  con- 
fidence at  all  ?  " 

I  hastened  to  assure  my  questioner  that  nothing 
could  well  be  farther  from  the  late  skipper's  thoughts 
than  to  place  any  confidence  in  me ;  but,  as  I  was 
speaking,  I  suddenly  remembered  the  odd-looking  key 
I  had  picked  up,  and  diving  into  my  pocket  I  produced 
it,  saying,  "  This  may  open  some  secret  locker  of  his. 
I  found  it  on  deck  last  night,  just  after  the  tranship- 
ment of  cargo  in  the  middle  watch." 

His  eyes  gave  one  flash  of  recognition,  and  he  said 
quietly,  "  I  know  that  key.  Come,  let  us  see  what  we 
can  find  by  its  aid." 

Then,  for  the  first  time,  I  saw  the  inside  of  the 
skipper's  state-room.  No  wonder  he  kept  it  fast 
closed.  It  was  honeycombed  with  lockers  of  every 
shape  and  size ;  but,  strangest  of  all,  there  were  three 
rings  in  the  deck  as  if  to  lift  up  level-fitting  hatches. 
These  took  my  eye  at  once,  and,  upon  my  pointing 
them  out,  the  Chinaman  stooped  and  essayed  to  lift 
one.  He  had  hardly  taken  hold  of  the  ring,  though, 
when  he  saw  a  keyhole  at  one  edge,  and  muttering,  "  I 
didn't  know  of  this,  though,"  he  tried  my  key  in  it. 
It  fitted,  unlocking  the  hatch  at  once.  But  neither 
he  nor  I  was  prepared  for  what  we  found.  There,  in 
a  space  not  more  than  four  feet  square  and  five  feet 
deep,  was  a  white  man,  a  stranger  to  me.    The  giant 

252 


The  Siamese  Lock 

at  my  side  reached  down  and  lifted  the  prisoner  out  ot 
his  hole  as  if  he  had  been  a  child,  and,  placing  him 
gently  on  a  settee,  regarded  him  with  incurious  eyes. 
He  was  just  alive,  and  moaning  softly.  I  called  Ah 
Toy,  who  evinced  no  surprise  at  seeing  the  stranger; 
but,  after  he  had  brought  some  water  at  my  order,  and 
given  the  sufferer  some  drink,  he  told  me  that  this 
was  the  missing  mate.  Ah  Toy  assisted  me  to  get  the 
unfortunate  man  into  my  berth,  where  I  left  him  to  the 
ministrations  of  the  steward,  while  I  hurried  back  to 
the  skipper's  state-room.  When  I  reached  it  the  calm 
searcher  had  laid  bare  almost  all  its  secrets. 

Boyesen,  the  second  mate,  was  there,  looking  like 
a  man  just  awaking  from  a  furious  debauch,  and 
blinking  at  the  light  like  a  bat.  And  around  him  on 
the  deck  were  heaped  treasures  beyond  all  my  powers 
of  assessment.  But  their  glitter  had  no  effect  upon 
me ;  I  suppose  I  must  have  been  saturated  with  sur- 
prises, so  that  my  clogged  brain  would  absorb  no 
more.  I  turned  to  Boyesen  and  offered  him  my  hand, 
which  he  took,  and,  by  assistance,  crawled  out  of  that 
infernal  den,  leaving  the  Chinaman  to  sort  out  his 
wealth. 

I  tried  hard  to  get  some  explanation  of  the  second 
mate's  strange  disappearance  from  him,  but,  in  addi- 
tion to  his  habitual  taciturnity,  he  was  in  no  condition 
to  talk ;  so,  after  a  few  minutes'  ineffectual  effort,  I 
left  him  and  returned  on  deck.  Ah,  how  delightful 
was  the  pure  air.  I  drew  in  great  draughts  of  it,  as 
if  to  dispel  the  foulness  of  that  place  below ;  I  looked 
up  at  the  bright  sky  and  down  at  the  glittering  sea, 

253 


Deep-Sca  Plunderings 

over  which  the  Phrabayat  was  bounding  at  the  rate  of 
six  or  seven  knots  an  hour,  and  blessed  God  that  I  was 
still  alive,  and  for  the  moment  forgot  how  great  was 
the  danger  still  remaining. 

Far  ahead  I  could  see  the  loom  of  the  China  coast. 
By  my  reckoning  she  would  be  in  touch  with  the  land 
before  nightfall  if  the  present  fresh  breeze  held — and 
what  then?  A  sudden  resolve  came  upon  me  to  ask 
the  evident  master  of  my  destinies ;  for,  although  I 
felt,  quite  sure  that  any  compunction  for  whatever  suf- 
ferings we  white  men  might  endure  would  be  impos- 
sible to  him,  there  would  be  a  certain  amount  of  satis- 
faction in  knowing  his  intentions.  I  turned  to  go  and 
seek  him,  but  he  was  standing  by  my  side.  Without 
waiting  for  me  to  speak  to  him,  he  said  gravely — 

"  In  a  few  hours  I  hope  to  reach  the  creek  where 
my  agents  are  waiting  to  tranship  the  cargo.  What 
then  will  happen  depends  largely  upon  yourself. 
Should  you  persist  in  refusing  to  take  command  of 
this  vessel  it  may  be  the  easiest  plan  to  cut  your  throat, 
as  you  would  be  greatly  in  the  way.  Of  course,  your 
two  companions  would  be  disposed  of  in  the  same 
manner.  But  for  the  present,  if  you  will  have  the 
goodness  to  call  the  hands  aft,  there  are  some  precau- 
tions to  be  taken  with  reference  to  the  valuables  you 
have  seen,  which  represent  the  loot  that  Captain 
Klenck  anticipated  making  off  with  presently.     That 

reminds  me "     And,  disappearing  from  my  side, 

he  slid  rather  than  walked  below.  I  called  the  hands 
aft,  walking  to  the  break  of  the  poop  as  I  did  so.  As 
I  stood  looking  down  on  to  the  main  deck,  my  late 

254 


The  Siamese  Lock 

companion  appeared  with  the  skipper's  body  in  his 
arms,  which  he  cast  over  the  lee-rail  as  if  it  had  been 
a  bundle  of  rags. 

Then,  turning  to  the  waiting  crew,  he  gave  a  few 
quiet  orders,  and  at  once  they  began  preparing  the  two 
boats  for  lowering.  Some  of  them  dived  below  and 
brought  up  armfuls  of  small  boxes,  bags,  and  mats, 
within  which  coarse  coverings  I  knew  were  concealed 
that  mass  of  wealth  lately  exposed  upon  the  deck  of 
the  state-room  below. 

Quite  at  a  loss  what  to  do,  I  stood  listlessly  watch- 
ing the  busy  scene,  until  I  suddenly  remembered  the 
two  white  men  below,  who  had  been  so  strangely 
rescued  from  an  awful  death.  And  as  I  was  clearly 
not  wanted  on  deck  I  went  into  the  cabin,  finding, 
with  the  first  thrall  of  satisfaction  I  had  felt  for  a 
long  time,  that  they  were  both  rapidly  mending.  It 
is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  I  soon  found  the 
stranger  to  be  my  predecessor,  whose  mysterious  dis- 
appearance had  worried  me  not  a  little.  Neither  he 
nor  Boyesen  were  able  to  talk  much,  had  they  been 
willing;  but  I  learned  that  they  had  both  incurred  the 
wrath  of  the  skipper  from  having  obtained  too  much 
knowledge  of  his  proceedings,  that  they  had  both  been 
drugged  (at  least,  only  in  that  way  could  they  account 
for  his  being  able  to  deal  with  them  as  he  had  done), 
and  they  had  sufifered  all  the  torments  of  the  lost  until 
the  yellow  giant  had  let  in  the  blessed  daylight  upon 
them  again.  But  neither  they  nor  I  could  understand 
why  the  skipper  had  not  killed  them  offhand.  That 
was   a   puzzle    never   likely   to   be    unravelled    now. 

255 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

Neither  of  them  appeared  to  take  a  great  deal  of  in- 
terest in  the  present  state  of  affairs,  certainly  not 
enough  to  assist  me  in  concerting  my  plans  for  our 
safety.  I  was  quite  satisfied  that  we  were  in  no  im- 
mediate danger,  so  that  I  was  content,  having  estab- 
lished a  bond  of  good-fellowship  between  us,  to  wait 
until  they  were  more  fit  for  active  service. 

We  sat  quietly  smoking  and  dropping  an  occa- 
sional word,  when  a  sudden  hurried  pattering  of  bare 
feet  overhead  startled  me.  I  rushed  on  deck,  roused  at 
last  into  something  like  vigorous  interest,  to  find  that 
all  hands  were  quitting  the  ship.  We  were  now  some 
twenty  miles  (by  my  estimate)  from  the  land,  and  what 
this  sudden  manoeuvre  could  mean  was  beyond  me 
until,  looking  astern,  I  saw  a  long  smoke-wreath  lying 
like  a  soft  pencil  smudge  along  a  low  mass  of  cumulous 
cloud.  Not  one  of  the  departing  heathen  took  the 
slightest  notice  of  me  as  they  shoved  oflf,  so  I  darted 
out,  snatched  up  the  glasses,  and  focused  them  on  the 
approaching  steamer.  I  could  not  make  her  out,  but 
I  felt  sure  it  was  her  advent  that  had  rid  us  of  our 
parti-coloured  masters.  Down  I  went  and  told  the 
invalids  what  had  happened,  begging  them,  if  they 
could,  to  come  on  deck  and  lend  a  hand  to  get  her 
hove-to,  so  that  the  steamer  might  the  more  rapidly 
overhaul  us.  Boyesen  managed  to  make  a  start,  but 
the  late  mate  was  too  feeble.  And  Ah  Toy,  to  my 
surprise,  also  showed  up.  I  had  no  time  to  ask  him 
why  he  had  not  gone  with  the  rest,  but  together  we 
hurried  on  deck,  finding  that  a  thick  column  of  smoke 
was  rising  from  the  main  hatch — those  animals  had  set 

256 


The  Siamese  Lock 

her  on  fire!  There  were,  of  course,  no  boats,  and 
unless  that  vessel  astern  got  in  some  pretty  good  speed 
we  stood  no  bad  chance  of  being  roasted  alive.  How- 
ever, we  rigged  up  an  impromptu  raft,  after  letting 
go  all  the  halyards  so  that  her  way  might  be  deadened 
— we  knew  better  than  to  waste  time  trying  to  put  out 
such  a  fire  as  was  raging  below. 

Why  enlarge  upon  the  alternations  of  hope  and 
fear  until  the  Ly-ee-moon,  Chinese  gunboat,  over- 
hauled us  ?  She  did  do  so,  but  not  until  we  were  cow- 
ering on  the  taffrail  watching  the  hungry  flames  lick- 
ing up  the  mizen-rigging.  And  when  rescued  I  would 
not  have  given  a  dozen  "  cash  "  for  our  lives,  but  that 
the  gunboat  had  an  Englishman  in  command,  to 
whom  I  was  able  to  tell  my  story.  He  put  the  cop- 
ing-stone upon  my  experiences  when  he  told  me  that 
he  had  been  watching  for  the  Phrabayat  for  the  past 
six  months,  having  received  much  information  as  to 
her  doings.  And  he  used  language  that  made  the  air 
smell  brimstone  when  he  realized  that,  after  all,  his 
prize  had  escaped  him.  I  told  him  all  I  could — it 
was  not  much — of  the  disappearance  of  the  crew,  but 
he  was  indifferent.  He  "  didn't  expect  to  clap  eyes  on 
'em  any  more,"  he  said.  Nor  did  he.  Where  they 
landed,  or  whether  they  sank,  no  one  but  themselves 
knew.  And  we  three  unfortunate  wretches  were 
landed  in  Hong  Kong  three  weeks  afterwards  almost 
as  bare  of  belongings  as  when  we  began  the  world. 
Ah  Toy  fell  on  his  feet,  for  he  shipped  in  the  gunboat 
as  the  commander's  servant  upon  my  recommenda- 
tion. 

257 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

I  had  all  the  experience  of  the  China  coast  I 
wanted,  and  shipped  before  the  mast  in  a  "  blue-fun- 
nelled "  boat  for  home  two  days  after,  glad  to  get 
away  on  any  terms.  The  two  Danes  went  their  way, 
and  I  saw  them  no  more. 


258 


THE    COOK   OF  THE   CORNUCOPIA 

A  SQUARE-SET  little  Norwegian  with  a  large  head, 
puffy  face,  faded  blue  eyes,  and  a  beard  that,  com- 
mencing just  below  them,  flowed  in  wavy  masses 
nearly  to  his  waist ;  the  "  Doctor "  had  already 
achieved  a  reputation  among  us  for  taciturnity  and 
gruflfness  quite  out  of  keeping  with  his  appearance. 

As  a  cook  he  was  no  better  or  worse  than  the 
average,  except  in  one  particular,  his  cleanliness ;  and 
as  the  majority  of  sailors  in  British  ships  do  not  expect 
such  a  miracle  as  would  be  necessary  in  order  to 
change  the  bad,  scanty  provisions  supplied  into  tasty 
food  by  cooking,  a  clean  cook  is  pretty  certain  of 
becoming  a  prime  favourite  for'ard. 

But  Olaf  Olsen  courted  no  man's  company  or  fa- 
vour. To  all  such  sociable  advances  as  were  made  him 
by  various  members  of  the  crew  he  returned  the  barest 
answer  possible,  letting  it  plainly  be  seen  that  he 
considered  his  own  society  amply  sufficient  for  all  his 
desires.  One  of  the  most  difficult  positions  to  main- 
tain, however,  on  board  ship  is  that  of  a  misanthrope. 
Sooner  or  later  the  need  of  human  fellowship  always 
asserts  itself,  and  the  most  sullen  or  reserved  of  men 
let  fall  their  self-contained  garment.  Olsen  was  no 
exception  to  this  rule. 

259 


Deep- Sea  Plunderings 

Before  we  had  been  a  month  at  sea,  I  was  sitting^ 
on  the  spare  spars  opposite  the  galley  door  silently 
smoking  during  the  last  half-hour  of  the  second  dog- 
watch, in  full  enjoyment  of  the  delicious  evening  fresh- 
ness, when  the  cook  suddenly  leaned  out  over  the 
half-door  of  his  den  and  said — 

"  You  looks  fery  quiet  dis  efening,  ain't  id  ?  " 

I  was  so  taken  aback  by  his  offering  any  remark 
that  I  let  my  pipe  fall  out  of  my  mouth,  but  stooping 
to  pick  it  up  gave  me  time  to  collect  myself  and  reply 
in  a  cheery  word  or  two,  feeling  curiously  anxious  to 
draw  him  out.  One  word  brought  on  another,  as  the 
common  phrase  has  it,  and  five  minutes  after  his  first 
remark  he  was  sitting  by  my  side  yarning  away  as  if 
trying  to  make  up  for  lost  time.  I  let  him  talk,  only 
just  dropping  a  word  or  two  at  intervals  so  as  to  keep 
him  going  by  showing  him  that  I  was  paying  atten- 
tion. Presently  he  broke  off  some  rambling  remarks  by 
saying  abruptly — 

"You  efer  bin  t'  Callyo?" 

"  No,  but  I've  heard  a  lot  about  it,"  I  replied. 
"  Pretty  hard  citizens  around  there,  ain't  they?  " 

"  Id's  de  las'  place  Gott  AUamitey  efer  made,  my 
boy,  an'  de  deffel's  ben  a  dumpin'  all  de  leff-overs  in 
de  vorl'  down  dere  efer  since,"  grunted  he.  "  I  vas 
dere  las'  voy'ge.  You  know  a  ship  call  de  Panama — 
big  wooden  ship  'bout  fourteen  hundred  ton  ?  Veil,  I 
vas  cook  apoard  her,  ben  out  in  her  over  two  yere  ven 
ve  come  ofer  frum  Melbun  in  ballas'.  Ve  schip  a 
pooty  hard  crout  in  de  Colonies,  leas,  dey  fancy  dem- 
sellufs  a  tough  lot,  but  mie   Gott!  dey  tidn'  know 

260 


The  Cook  of  the  Cornucopia 

Capn  Tunn.  No,  dey  tidn',  ner  yet  de  tree  mates,  'n* 
leas'  of  all  dey  tidn'  know  nic.  I  like  de  afterguard 
fus'-class,  me  an'  dem  allvus  ked  along  bully,  an'  ve 
vas  all  lef  of  de  fus'  crew  ship'  in  London. 

"  De  Bosun,  Chips,  an'  Sails  wa'nt  any  count ; 
square-heads  all  tree  ov'  em.  P'raps  you'se  tinkin' 
I'm  a  square-head,  too?  Yus,  but  I'm  f'm  Hammer- 
fes',  an'  dey  don'  breed  no  better  men  in  de  vorl,  dan 
dere.  Veil,  I  see  how  tings  vas  coin'  t'be,  'fore  ve  ked 
out  of  Bass's  Straits,  'n  I  dells  you,  my  poy,  dere  vas 
dimes  pooty  soon.  De  ole  man  vas  a  Kokney,  but  he 
looks  so  much  like  me  as  if  he  been  my  dvin  broder. 
He  speak  fery  low  an'  soft — de  mate  alvus  done  de 
hollerin' ;  but  de  fus'  time  one  of  de  fellers  gif  him 
some  slack,  he  pick  him  from  de  veel  like  he  bin  a  crab, 
unt  schling  him  forrut  along  de  poop  so  he  fall  ofer 
de  break  onto  de  main-deck  vere  de  mate  vus  standin' 
ready  ter  kig  him  fur  fallin'.  De  noise  bring  de  vatch 
below  out,  an'  dey  all  rush  af,  fur  a  plug  mush.  I 
come  too,  but  I  sail  in  an  he'p  de  ole  man,  un'  I  dell 
you  id  vas  a  crate  fight,  dere  vas  blut  unt  hair  flyin'. 

"  In  den  minnits  ve  hat  it  all  ofer,  de  olt  man  vas 
de  boss,  uft  eferybody  know  it.  All  de  fellers  get 
forrut  like  sheeps,  un'  ven  de  ole  man  sing  out,  '  Grog 
oh ! '  presently,  dey  come  aft  so  goot  as  a  Suntay- 
school.  Ve  haf  no  more  trouble  mit  dem,  but  ven  ve 
ket  ter  Callyo  de  ole  man  say,  *  Py  Gott !  I  ain't  coin 
ter  keep  dis  crout  loafin'  rount  here  fur  two  tree 
mont'  vile  ve  vaitin'  fur  our  turn  at  de  Chinchees. 
Run  'em  out,  Misder  Short ;  ve  ket  plenty  men  here 
ven  ve  vant  'em  quite  so  goot  as  dese,  un  some  blut 
'8  261 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

money  too ! '  So  de  mate,  he  vork  'em  up,  make  'em 
rouse  de  cable  all  ofer  de  ballas',  schling  'em  alof ',  tar- 
rin'  un  schrapin'  an'  slushin'  all  day  long  frum  coffee- 
time  till  eight  bells  at  night,  unt  I  feet  'em  yoost  de 
same  as  at  sea. 

"  In  tree  day  efery  galoot  ov  'em  vas  gone,  unt  den 
ve  haf  goot  times,  I  dell  you,  de  Bosun  unt  Chips  unt 
Sails  vashin'  decks  unt  keepin'  tings  shipshape.  Ve 
lay  dere  tree  mont',  an'  den  de  olt  man  ket  his  per-mit 
fur  de  islan's.  He  vent  to  Bucko  Yoe,  de  Amerigan 
boarding-master  dat  kill  so  many  men — you  hear  of 
him  before,  ain't  it  ? — unt  he  say,  '  Yoe,  I  vant  fifteen 
men  to-morrow.  I  ton'd  care  a  tam  who  dey  vas 
s'long's  dey's  life  sailormen,  put  py  Gott,  ef  you 
schanghai  me  enny  'longshoremen,  alia  det  men,  I  fills 
you  so  full  of  holes  dat  you  mage  a  Xo.  i  flour  tretger. 
Dat's  all  I'm  coin  t'  say  t'  you.'  Bucko  Yoe  he  larf, 
but  he  know  de  olt  man  pefore,  unt  he  pring  us  fifteen 
vite  men,  all  blind,  paralytic  tronk,  but  anybody  see 
dey  vas  sailormen  mit  von  eye." 

Just  at  this  juncture,  Sandy  McFee,  my  especial 
chum,  came  strolling  out  of  the  fo'c'sle,  his  freshly- 
loaded  pipe  glowing  and  casting  a  grateful  odour  upon 
the  quiet  evening  air.  He  was,  like  the  cook,  a  square- 
set,  chunky  man,  but  he  was  also,  in  addition,  one  of 
the  smartest  men  I  ever  knew.  He  brought  up  all 
standing  at  the  unusual  sight  of  the  Doctor  and  myself 
enjoying  a  friendly  cuffer,  so  surprised  that  he  allowed 
his  pipe  to  go  out.  The  cook  froze  up  promptly,  and 
stared  at  the  intruder  stonily.  It  was  an  uncomfort- 
able silence  that  ensued,  broken  at  last  by  the  rasping 

262 


He  clutched  his  insulter  by  the  beard  and  belt. 


The  Cook  of  the  Cornucopia 

voice  of  the  Aberdonian,  saying,  "  Man  Tammas,  hoc 
d'ye  manach  t'  open  th'  lips  o'  yon  Dutch  immuj  ? 
Ah'd  a  noshin'  ut  he  couldna  speyk  ony  ceevil  lan- 
guage.   Ye  micht  tell  ma  hoo  ye  manached  it." 

A  certain  quivering  about  the  cook's  broad  shoul- 
ders was  the  only  visible  sign  that  he  had  heard  and 
understood  the  mocking  little  speech  made  by  Scotty, 
but  the  latter  had  hardly  finished  when  the  Doctor 
rose  to  his  feet,  remarking  with  a  yawn, 'as  of  a  man 
who  took  no  interest  in  the  subject — 

"  I  allvus  t'ought  Scossmen  vas  dam'  pigs,  und  now 
I  knows  it.  But  I  nefer  hear  von  crunt  before.  Vy 
tondt  you  co  unt  scradge  yorselluf?  You  findt  un 
olt  proom  forrut." 

Down  went  Sandy's  pipe,  an  articulate  growl  burst 
from  his  chest,  and,  with  a  spring  like  a  grasshopper, 
he  had  clutched  his  insulter  by  the  beard  and  belt. 
There  was  a  confused  whirl  of  legs  and  arms,  a  pant- 
ing snarl  deep  down  in  the  men's  throats,  and  sud- 
denly, to  my  horror,  I  saw  the  cook  go  flying  over  the 
rail  into  space,  striking  the  sea  almost  immediately 
afterwards  with  a  tremendous  splash.  It  was  all  so 
sudden  that  for  the  instant  I  was  helpless.  But  the 
splash  alongside  started  me  into  life,  and,  grabbing  the 
coil  of  the  fore-sheet  behind  me,  I  hurled  it  overside 
without  looking.  At  the  same  moment  Sandy,  horror- 
struck  at  his  mad  action,  sprang  on  to  the  pin-rail  and 
dived  after  his  victim. 

The  ship  was  just  forging  ahead  through  an  oily 
smoothness  of  sea  to  a  faint  upper  current  of  air,  so 
that  there  was  no  great  danger  except  from  a  prowling 

263 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

shark,  but  the  short  twilight  was  fading  fast.  As  if 
intuitively,  all  hands  had  rushed  on  deck  and  aft  to  the 
quarter,  while  the  helmsman  jammed  the  wheel  hard 
down.  The  vessel  turned  slowly  to  meet  the  wind, 
while  we  watched  the  man  who  had  just  hurled  a  fel- 
low-creature to  what  might  easily  be  his  death,  fight- 
ing like  a  lion  to  rescue  him.  The  cook  could  not 
swim,  that  was  evident,  but  it  was  still  more  evident 
that  he  had  no  thought  of  his  own  danger  if  only  he 
might  take  his  enemy  along  with  him  to  death.  He 
had,  however,  to  deal  with  one  who  was  equally  at 
home  in  the  water  as  on  deck,  and  it  was  wonderful 
to  see  how  warily,  yet  with  what  determination  the 
little  Scotchman  mancEUvred  until  he  had  the  furious 
Norwegian  firmly  pinned  by  the  arms  at  his  back, 
and  how  coolly  he  dipped  him  again  and  again  be- 
neath the  surface,  until  he  had  reduced  him  to  qui- 
escence. 

Getting  the  boat  out  is  usually  in  those  ships  a  for- 
midable task,  and  it  was  nearly  half  an  hour  before 
we  had  the  two  men  safely  on  board  again.  The 
skipper  was  a  quiet,  amiable  man,  and  this  strange  out- 
break puzzled  him  greatly.  Sandy,  however,  ex- 
pressed his  contrition,  and  promised  to  avoid  the  Doc- 
tor and  his  bitter  tongue  in  future.  So  with  that  the 
skipper  had  to  be  content,  especially  as  the  cook  re- 
covered so  rapidly  from  his  ducking  that  we  heard  him 
in  another  half-hour's  time  grinding  cofifee  for  the 
morning  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  But  the  strang- 
est part  of  the  aflfair  to  me  was  its  outcome.  Next 
morning,  in  our  watch  below,  the  Doctor  came  into  the 

264 


The  Cook  of  the  Cornucopia 

fo'c'sle,  and,  walking  up  to  Sandy,  put  out  his  hand, 
saying — 

**  Santy,  you  vas  a  coot  man,  pedder  as  me,  unt  I 
tond  vant  any  more  row  longer  you,  I  ben  coot  man, 
too,  bud  I  ain't  any  longer,  only  I  forkedd  it  some- 
dimes.  I  cot  my  soup  unter  vay  for  dinner,  unt  if  you 
likes  I  finish  dot  yarn  I  vas  tellin'  Tom  here  lasd 
night." 

Now  Sandy  was  all  over  man,  and  jumping  up 
from  his  chest  he  gripped  the  Doctor's  paw,  say- 
ing— 

"  Weel,  Doctor,  A'am  as  sorry  as  a  maan  can  be 
'at  I  lost  ma  temper  wi'  ye.  Wen  Ah  see  ye  i'  th' 
watter  Ah  feelt  like  a  cooard,  and  Ah'd  a  loupit 
owerboord  afther  ye,  even  ef  Ah  couldna  ha  soomt 
a  stroak.  Ah  wisht  we'd  a  bottle  o'  fhuskey  t' 
drink  t'  yin  anither  in ;  but  never  mind,  we'll  hae 
two  holl  evenin's  thegither  in  Melburrun  when 
we  got  thonder.  But  you  an'  me's  chums  fra  this 
oot." 

This  happy  conclusion  pleased  us  all,  and,  in  order 
to  profit  by  this  loosening  of  the  Doctor's  tongue,  I 
said,  passing  over  my  plug  of  tobacco — 

"  Now  then.  Doctor,  we're  all  anxious  to  hear  the 
rest  of  that  cuflfer  you  was  tellin'  me  last  night.  I've 
told  the  chaps  all  you  told  me,  and  they  are  just 
hungry  for  the  rest,  so  fill  up  and  go  ahead." 

"  Veil,  poys,  you  nefer  see  a  hantier  crout  dan  dat 
lot  Amerigan  Yoe  cot  schanghaied  abord  of  us  in 
Callyo,  How  he  ked  'em  all  so  qviet  I  ton't  know. 
But  dey  vas  all  ofer  blut.  unt  dere  close  vas  tore  to 

265 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

shakin's,  so  I  kess  dey  vas  some  pooty  hart  fightin' 
pefore  he  put  'em  to  sleep  so  he  could  pring  dem 
alonkside.  De  olt  man  unt  his  bucko  crout  of  off'cers 
ton't  let  'em  haf  time  to  ked  spry  pefore  dey  pegin 
roustin'  'em  erroun' — dey  know  de  ropes  too  veil  fer 
dot.  So  as  soon  as  de  boardin'  marsder  vas  gone,  oudt 
dey  comes,  unt  aldough  it  vas  keddin'  tark,  I  be  tamt 
ef  dey  vasn't  sdarted  holystonin'  de  deck  fore  'n*  aft, 
Dey  vas  haluf  tedt  mit  knoggin'  about,  dey  hadn't 
been  fed,  unt  dey  vas  more  as  haluf  poison  mit  bad 
yin,  unt  den  to  vork  'em  oop  like  dat,  I  dells  you  vat, 
poys,  id  vas  tough. 

"  Dey  let  oop  on  'em  'bout  twelluf  o'clock  unt  told 
'em  to  CO  below,  but  de  poor  dyfuls  yoost  ked  into  de 
fo'c'sle  unt  fall  down — anyveres — unt  dere  dey  schleep 
till  cofifee-dime.  Perhaps  you  ton'd  pelief  me,  but  I 
dells  you  de  trut,  dem  fellers  come  out  ven  de  mate 
sinks  oudt,  '  Turn-to '  like  anoder  crout  altogeder. 
Efen  de  mate  look  mit  all  his  eyes  cos  he  don't  aspect 
to  see  'em  like  dat.  Dey  ton't  do  mooch  till  prekfuss- 
dime,  unt  den  dey  keds  a  coot  feet ;  mags  dem  quite 
sassy. 

"  Unt  so  off  ve  goes  to  de  Chinchees,  unt  from 
dat  day  out  ve  nefer  done  fightin'.  You  talk  apout 
Yankee  blood-poats  unt  plue-nose  hell-afloats,  dey 
wan't  in  it  'longside  de  Panama.  Dem  fellers  vas  all 
kinds ;  but  dey  vas  all  on  de  fight,  unt,  if  de  could  only 
haf  hang  togedder,  dey'd  haf  murder  de  whole  lot 
of  us  aft.  But  dey  couldn't ;  leas',  dey  didn't  until  long 
after  ve  lef  de  island,  an  slidin'  up  troo  de  soud-east 
trades  tords  de  line.     Den  one  afternoon  I  ketch  one 

266 


The  Cook  of  the  Cornucopia 

of  'em  diggin'  a  lot  er  skish  *  outer  one  er  my  full 
casks.  'Course  I  vas  mat,  unt  I  dells  him  to  get  t' 
hell  out  er  dat,  unt  leave  my  slush  alone.  He  don't 
say  nuthin',  but  he  schlings  de  pot  at  me.  Den  it  vas 
me  un  him  for  it,  un  ve  fight  like  two  rhinosros. 

"  Ve  fight  so  hardt  ve  don't  know  dat  all  hants  haf 
choin  in,  efen  de  man  run  from  de  veel  un  chip  in.  I 
bin  dat  mat  'bout  my  slush  I  fight  like  six  men,  unt 
ven  de  fight  vas  ofer  I  fall  down  on  teck  right  vere  I 
am,  unt  go  to  sleep.  Ven  I  vake  up  aken  de  olt  man 
haf  got  de  hole  crout  in  ierns.  He  say  he  be  tam  ef 
he  coin't  t'  haf  any  mo'  fightin'  dis  voy'ge ;  liddle's  all 
fery  veil,  but  'nough's  a  plenty.  So  ve  vork  de  ship 
home  oursellufs — qvite  'nough  t'  do,  I  tell  you,  t'  keep 
her  coin  'n  look  after  dat  crout  so  •veil. 

"  De  olt  man  dell  me  he  bin  fery  font  of  me,  'n 
he  coin' t'  gif  me  dupple  pay ;  but  ven  ve  ket  to  Grafes- 
ent  'n  sent  all  de  crout  ashore  in  ierns,  I  vant  t'  sell 
my  slush  to  a  poatman — I  haf  fifteen  parrels — unt  de 
pKjatman  oflfer  me  £25  for  it.  But  de  olt  man  he  say 
he  want  haluf — haluf  my  slush  vat  I  ben  safin  fery  near 
tree  years !  I  say  to  him,  '  Look  here,  Cap'n  Tunn,  I 
luf  you  petter  as  mineselluf ;  but  pefore  I  led  you  take 
away  haluf  my  slush,  I  coin  to  see  vich  is  de  pest  man, 
you  alia  me.'    He  don't  say  no  more,  but  he  valk  up 

•  '*  Slush  "  in  the  merchant  service  is  the  name  given  to  the 
coarse  dripping,  lumps  of  waste  fat,  etc.,  which  the  ship's  cook 
has  over  after  preparing  the  men's  food.  He  is  entitled  to  this 
as  his  perquisite,  and  is  naturally  careful  to  cask  it  down  during 
the  voyage  for  sale  ashore,  after  the  voyage,  to  wholesale  chand- 
lers and  soap-boilers,  or  their  middlemen. 

267 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

to  me  unt  make  a  crab  at  my  peard,  unt  den  it  vas  us 
two  for  it.  But  he  vasn't  a  man,  he  vas  ten  deffels 
stuff  into  von  liddle  man's  body.  I  tondt  know  how 
long  ve  fight,  I  tondt  know  how  ve  fight ;  but  ven  I 
vake  oop  I  ain't  any  fightin'  man  no  more.  My  het  is 
crack  unt  haluf  my  teet  gone,  unt  I  haf  some  arms 
unt  legs  break  pesides.  But  he  gomes  to  see  me  in 
de  'ospital,  unt  he  ses,  *  Olsen,  my  poy,  you  bin  a  tam 
goot  man,  'n  I  haf  sell  your  slush  for  tirty  poun'  unt 
pring  you  de  money.  You  haf  £120  to  take,  unt  ven 
you  come  out,  tondt  you  go  to  sea  no  more;  you  puy 
a  cook-shop  in  de  Highvay ;  you  make  your  fortune.' 
Den  he  go  avay,  unt  I  never  see  him  any  more. 

"  Ven  I  come  out  I  traw  my  150  soffrins  unt  puy 
a  pelt  to  carry  dem  rount  me.  Unt  I  pig  up  mit  a  nice 
liddle  gal  from  de  country,  unt  ve  haf  a  yolly  time.  Ve 
make  it  oop  to  ked  marrit  righd  off,  unt  dake  dat  cook- 
shop  so  soon  as  I  haf  yoost  a  liddle  run  rount.  Den  I 
sdart  on  de  spree  unt  I  keep  it  oop  for  tree  veeks,  until 
I  ked  bad  in  my  het,  allvus  dirsty  unt  nefer  can't  get 
any  trinks  dat  seems  vet.  Afterwards  I  co  vat  you  call 
oudt — off  my  het,  unt  I  tond't  know  vedder  I  isn't 
back  in  de  Panama  agen,  fightin',  fightin'  all  day  unt 
all  night.  Ven  I  ked  veil  agen,  I  got  nuthin',  no 
money,  no  close,  no  vife.  So  I  tink  I  petter  go  unt 
look  for  a  ship,  unt  ven  I  ked  dis  von  I  ain't  eat  any- 
ting  for  tree  days." 

Then,  as  abruptly  as  he  had  opened  the  conversa- 
tion, he  closed  it  by  getting  up  and  leaving  us,  hav- 
ing, I  supposed,  obeyed  the  uncontrollable  impulse  to 
tell  his  story  that  comes  now  and  then  upon  every  man. 

268 


A   LESSON    IN    CHRISTMAS- 
KEEPING 

MoRNiXG  broke  bleakly  forbidding  on  the  iron- 
bound  coast  of  Kerguelen  Island.  Over  the  fantastic 
peaks,  flung  broadcast  as  if  from  the  primeval  cauldron 
of  the  world,  hung  a  grim  pall  of  low,  grey-black 
cloud,  so  low,  indeed,  that  the  sea-birds  drifting  dis- 
consolately to  and  fro  between  barren  shore  and  gale- 
tossed  sea  were  often  hidden  from  view  as  if  behind 
a  fog-bank,  and  only  their  melancholy  screams  de- 
noted their  presence,  until  they  glinted  into  sight  again 
like  huge  snow-flakes  hesitating  to  fall.  Yet  it  was 
the  Antarctic  mid-summer,  it  was  the  breaking  of 
Christmas  Day. 

As  the  pale  dawn  grew  less  weak,  it  revealed  a 
tiny  encampment,  just  a  few  odds  and  ends  of  drifting 
wreckage  piled  forlornly  together,  and  yielding  a  dubi- 
ous shelter  to  a  huddled-up  group  of  fourteen  men, 
sleeping  in  spite  of  their  surroundings.  Presently, 
there  were  exposed,  perched  upon  the  snarling  teeth 
of  an  outlying  rock-cluster,  the  "  ribs  and  trucks  "  of  a 
small  wooden  ship,  a  barque-rigged  craft  of  about 
four  hundred  tons.  Her  rigging  hung  in  slovenly  fes- 
toons from  the  drunkenly  standing  masts,  the  yards 

269 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

made  more  angles  with  their  unstable  supports  than 
are  known  to  Euclid,  while  through  many  a  jagged 
gap  in  her  topsides  the  mad  sea  rushed  wantonly,  as  if 
elated  with  its  opportunities  of  marring  the  handiwork 
of  the  daring  sea-masters. 

The  outlook  was  certainly  sufRciently  discomfort- 
ing; yet,  as  one  by  one  the  sleepers  awakened,  and 
with  many  a  grunt  and  shiver  crept  forth  from  their 
lair,  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  judge  from  the  ex- 
pressions upon  their  weather-beaten  countenances  how 
hopeless  was  the  situation  that  they  were  in. 

For  they  came  of  a  breed  that  is  strong  to  endure 
hardness,  that  takes  its  much  bitter  with  little  sweet  as 
a  matter  of  course,  and,  by  dint  of  steady  refusal  to 
be  dismayed  at  Fate's  fiercest  frowns,  has  built  up  for 
itself  a  most  gallantly  earned  reputation  for  pluck, 
endurance,  and  success  throughout  the  civilized  world. 
They  were  Scotch  to  a  man,  rugged  and  stern  as  the 
granite  of  their  native  Aberdeenshire. 

They  were  the  crew  of  the  barque  Jeanie  Deans,  of 
Peterhead,  which,  while  outward  bound  from  Aber- 
deen to  Otago,  New  Zealand,  had,  after  long  striving 
against  weather  extraordinarily  severe  for  the  time  of 
year,  been  hurled  against  that  terrific  coast  during  the 
previous  afternoon.  Their  escape  shoreward  had  been 
as  miraculous  as  fifty  per  cent,  of  such  escapes  are, 
and,  beyond  their  lives,  they  had  saved  nothing.  So 
the  prospect  was  unpromising.  Nothing  could  be  ex- 
pected from  the  break-up  of  the  ship.  She  was  loaded 
with  ironwork  of  various  sorts,  and  her  stores  were 
not  in  any  water-tight  cases  which  might  bring  them 

270 


A  Lesson  in   Christmas-Keeping 

ashore  in  an  eatable  condition.  But  the  large-limbed, 
red-bearded  skipper,  after  a  keen  look  round,  said — 

**  Ou,  ay,  ther  isna  ower  muckle  tae  back  an'  fill  on, 
but  A'am  thenkin'  we'll  juist  hae  to  bestir  wersells  an' 
see  if  we  canna  get  some  breakfas'.  Has  ony  ane  got 
ony  matches  ?  " 

It  presently  appeared  that  of  these  simple  yet  in- 
valuable little  adjuncts  to  civilization  there  was  not 
one  among  the  crowd.  But  even  this  grim  discovery 
appeared  to  make  no  great  impression,  and  presently 
the  mate,  a  tall  man  from  Auchtermuchty,  with  an  ex- 
pressionless face  and  a  voice  like  "  a  coo's,"  as  he 
was  wont  to  say,  remarked  casually — 

"If  ye'll  scatther  aboot  an'  see  fat  ye  can  fine  tae 
cuik,  I'se  warrant  ye  Aa'U  get  ye  some  fire  tae  cuik 
it  wi'." 

No  one  spoke  another  word,  but  silently  they  sepa- 
rated for  their  quest,  leaving  Mr.  Lowrie,  with  his 
blank  face,  methodically  rummaging  among  the  debris. 
Presently  he  sat  down  quietly  with  a  piece  of  flat 
board  before  him  about  two  feet  long  by  six  inches 
wide.  In  his  hand  he  held  a  piece  of  broomstick, 
which  in  some  mysterious  way  had  got  included  in  the 
flotsam.  This  he  whittled  at  one  end  into  a  blunt 
point,  carefully  saving  the  cuttings  in  his  trousers 
pocket.  Then  with  a  steady  movement  of  his  stick  he 
commenced  to  chafe  a  groove  lengthways  in  the  board, 
adding  occasionally  a  pinch  of  gfrit  from  the  ground  to 
assist  friction. 

By-and-by  there  was  quite  a  little  heap  of  brown 
wood-dust  collected  at  one  end  of  the  groove.    Then 

271 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

getting  on  his  knees  and  grasping  his  broom-stick- 
piece  energetically  in  both  hands,  he  pushed  it  to  and 
fro  in  the  groove  with  all  his  force  and  speed,  until 
suddenly  he  flung  away  the  stick,  and  stooping  over 
the  little  pile  of  dust,  he  covered  it  tenderly  with  both 
hands  hollowed,  and  bending  his  head  over  it  breathed 
upon  it  most  gently.  And  by  imperceptible  degrees 
there  arose  from  it  a  slender  spiral  of  smoke. 

His  right  hand  stole  to  his  pocket,  and  fetched 
therefrom  a  few  slivers  of  wood,  which  he  coyly  intro- 
duced under  the  shelter  of  his  other  hand,  until  sud- 
denly the  Red  Flower  blossomed — there  was  fire. 
Now  it  only  needed  feeding  to  rise  gloriously  into  that 
gloofny  air.  To  this  end  Mr.  Lowrie  worked  like  a 
Chinaman,  until  within  an  hour  he  had  a  pile  of  burn- 
ing driftwood,  four  feet  high  and  fully  six  feet  round, 
sending  up  ruddy  tongues  of  flame  and  a  column  of 
smoke  like  a  palm  tree. 

One  by  one  the  adventurers  returned  with  dour 
faces,  empty-handed  save  for  a  sea-bird's  egg  or  two,  a 
few  fronds  of  seaweed  which  the  bearers  insisted  was 
"  dulse  "  (the  edible  fucus),  and  a  brace  of  birds  that 
looked  scarcely  enough  to  furnish  an  appetizer  for  one. 
But  just  as  a  stray  sunbeam  darted  down  upon  the 
little  gathering,  while  they  huddled  round  the  grateful 
warmth,  there  was  a  hoarse  shout.  All  started,  for  it 
was  the  skipper's  voice  roaring — 

"  C'way  here  an'  lend  a  han',  ye  louns.  Fat'r  ye 
aal  shtannin  there  toasting  yer  taes  fur  like  a  pickle  o' 
weans  juist  waitin'  on  yer  mithers  tae  cry  on  ye  tae 
come  ben  fur  yer  breakfas'  ?  " 

272 


A  Lesson  in   Christmas-Keeping 

The  men  at  once  obeyed  the  famihar  command, 
finding  the  skipper  and  the  cook  wrestling  with  a  huge 
case,  that  was  so  stoutly  built  that  not  a  plank  of  it  had 
come  adrift.  When  they  had  man-handled  it  over  the 
rugged  ground  to  within  reach  of  the  warmth  the 
skipper  said — 

"  Ah  divna  ken  fats  intilt,  bit  Ah  min  fine  that  Mes- 
ter  Broon,  fan  he  shipped  it,  said  it  wis  somethin'  Ah 
wis  tae  tak  unco  care  o'.  And  so  'twis  lasht  under  th' 
s'loon  table,  C'wa,  le's  open't ;  please  God  ther  may 
be  somethin'  useful  inside  o't." 

Willing  hands,  regardless  of  the  loss  of  skin  from 
knuckles  and  arms,  wrought  at  the  task ;  but  so  stout- 
ly did  the  case  resist  their  efforts  that  it  was  long 
before  they  had  stripped  off  the  stout  planking  and 
revealed  an  air-tight  lining  of  thick  tin.  This  was 
attacked  with  sheath-knives,  and,  after  much  hacking 
and  breaking  of  cutlery,  yielded  and  exposed  a  num- 
ber of  queer-looking  parcels  most  carefully  packed. 
On  the  top  was  a  letter.    It  ran  as  follows : — 

"  Dear  Jack, 

"  In  full  recollection  of  your  curious  Scot- 
tish prejudice  against  any  celebration  of  Christmas, 
and  also  of  that  awful  time  when  you  and  I  were 
stranded  on  the  Campbells,  and  compelled  to  suck  raw 
sea-birds'  eggs  for  our  Christmas  fare,  I  have  sent  you 
the  materials  for  a  good  old-fashioned  Christmas  din- 
ner, as  I  understand  it,  being  a  Cockney  of  the  Cock- 
niest.  I  also  send  you  Dickens's  '  Christmas  Carol '  to 
read  after  dinner,  and  if  you  don't  do  justice  to  my 

273 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

loving  Christmas  Box,  I  solemnly  swear  that  I  will 
never  regard  you  as  a  chum  again.  Here's  wishing 
you  a  Merry  Christmas,  and  as  jolly  a  Hogmanay  as 
ever  you  can  get  after. 

"  Most  affectionately  yours, 

"  John  Brown." 

"  Em,  ehmm  "  (no  written  words  can  adequately 
represent  the  peculiar  Scottish  exclamation  that  stands 
for  anything  you  like,  being  strictly  non-committal), 
"  that  reads  no  sae  bad.  We'll  juist  investigate.  Fat 
hae  we  here?  Et's  a  duff,  mahn,  ou  ay,  bit  et's  a 
boeny  wan." 

And  as  he  spoke  he  pulled  out  of  its  nest  a  gor- 
geous Christmas  pudding  weighing  some  twenty-five 
pounds.  Next  came  an  enormous  oblong  tin  case, 
labelled,  "  Fortnum  and  Mason.  Special  Christmas 
turkey,  stuffed  with  capon,  tongue,  and  forcemeat," 
upon  reading  which  the  skipper  murmured  again,  "  Ou 
ay,  that's  no  sae  dusty,  ye  ken."  Next  came  a  layer  of 
bottles  of  green  peas,  alternated  with  bottles  labelled 
"  Turtle  soup."  Other  queer  tin  cases  followed,  bear- 
ing inscriptions  such  as  "  Special  mince-pies," 
"  Scotch  shortbread,"  "  American  biscuits  " — like 
foam-flakes — "  Dessert  fruits,"  "  York  ham,  best  qual- 
ity, ready  cooked,"  and  "  Boar's  head."  Finally,  on  the 
ground  floor,  as  it  were,  was  displayed  a  compact  array 
of  bottles,  of  which  six  w'ere  labelled,  "  Extra  special 
Scotch  whisky,"  six  "  Special  port,  bin  50,"  two  corpu- 
lent ones  bore  the  signature  "  D.O.M.,"  and  twelve 
had  big-headed  corks  with  gold  foil  adorning  them. 

274 


A  Lesson  in  Christmas-Keeping 

Followed  at  last  two  boxes  of  fat-looking  cigars,  and 
the  book. 

That  grim  assembly  looked  down  upon  this  tempt- 
ing array  with  their  hard  features  perceptibly  soften- 
ing, while  the  skipper  said — 

"  Weel  a'weel.  A'am  no'  an  advocate  for  special- 
izin'  Chrismuss  masel,  altho'  Ah  laik  fine  tae  keep  up 
Hogmanay.  But  A'am  no  a  bigot,  ye  ken,  an'  A'am 
thenkin'  that  unner  th'  circumstances  'twad  juist  be 
flytin'  Proeveedence  no  tae  accept  in  a  speerut  o'  mod- 
erashun  sichn  a  Chrismuss  Boex  as  thon.  Bit  I'll 
not  coairce  ony  man.  Them  'at  disna  approve  o'  keep- 
in'  Chrismuss  ava  can  juist  daunder  awa'.  'S  far  as 
A'am  consairned  " — here  he  deftly  knocked  the  top 
off  one  of  the  special  Scotch  bottles,  and,  looking 
round  benignantly,  said — "  Here's  tae  wersels,  boys,  a 
blessin'  on  the  giver  o'  th'  feast,  an'  a  Merry  Chrismuss 
tae  us  a'." 

Why  particularize  the  proceedings  that  ensued? 
Should  it  not  be  sufficient  to  say  that  no  conscientious 
scruples  were  entertained  by  any  of  those  hard-grained 
men  at  this  almost  compulsory  wrecking  of  their  prin- 
ciples ?  Scarcely ;  yet  passing  notice  may  be  given  to 
the  difficulties  attendant  upon  drinking  champagne 
out  of  bottle-necks,  of  eating  concentrated  turtle-soup 
warmed  in  the  bottle  like  Pommard'  of  the  total  want 
of  order  and  routine  evidenced  in  dealing  with  the 
assorted  provisions  so  providentially  to  hand — and 
mouth.  Especially  was  this  the  case  with  the  rotund 
bottles  of  Benedictine.  One  and  all  agreed  that  while 
the  contents  were  "  gey  an'  oily-like,"  they  were  "  vara 

275 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

seductiv',"  and  had  the  effect  of  making  the  partakers 
thereof  curiously  unreserved  and  open  to  conviction  as 
to  the  general  satisfactoriness  of  things  in  general. 

When  at  last,  with  long-drawn  sighs,  the  unwonted 
Christmas-keepers  sank  down  upon  their  stony  seats 
and  lit  up  their  aromatic  smokes  with  brands  passed 
from  hand  to  hand,  it  evidently  needed  no  keen  judge 
of  human  nature  to  prophesy  that  a  unanimous  vote 
would  be  given  if  asked  for  as  to  the  desirability  of 
keeping  up  Christmas  English  fashion. 

When  all  had  quietly  settled  down  to  the  soothing 
influence  of  nicotine  in  its  best  form,  the  skipper  lifted 
up  his  voice  and  said — 

"  Weel,  ma  lads,  A'am  thenkin'  that  we  k'n  dae  nae 
less  than  gae  through  the  haill  reetual.  This  bulk,  '  A 
Christmas  Carol,'  is  eevidently  pairt  o'  th'  programme, 
an'  as  A'am  nae  that  ongratefu'  I'll  juist  read  it,  fativer 
it  coasts  ma." 

So  he  opened  the  volume,  and  read  while  the  hard 
lines  of  the  faces  softened  under  the  magic  of  the 
Master's  words,  and  in  spite  of  the  well-worn  masks  of 
indifference  an  occasional  dewdrop  of  sympathy  glit- 
tered like  a  diamond  in  the  furrow  of  a  bronzed  visage. 


"  Ah  wudna  Wuss  tae  interrup  ye,  sir,"  suddenly 
interjected  an  ordinary  seaman,  "  bit  Ah  thocht  ye 
micht  laik  tae  ken  that  thers  a  vessel  juist  lookin' 
roun'  the  point." 

"  Man,  ye're  richt,  there  is  that.  Weel,  A'am 
neerly  throu',  an'  as  thon  auld  deevil  Scrooge  has  been 

276 


A  Lesson  in  Christmas-Keeping 

conveencit  o'  th'  errour  of  s  ways  (as  we  have),  A'am 
of  opingon  we  ma  tak'  th'  lave  o'  th'  storey  as  read. 
But  'twas  a  gey  guid  yarn,  was't  no  ?  " 

By  this  time  the  ship  of  deUverance,  having  hove 
to,  was  getting  a  boat  out.  That  laborious  business 
over,  the  boat  came  at  fair  speed  towards  the  only 
practicable  landing-place,  until  the  commiserating  face 
of  the  officer  in  charge  took  on  an  expression  of  be- 
wilderment as  he  noted  the  smug  complacency  on  the 
countenances  of  the  castaways. 

It  did  not  diminish  when  the  skipper,  gravely  wel- 
coming him  with  one  hand,  held  out  invitingly  a  de- 
capitated bottle  of  extra  special  Scotch  with  the  other, 
saying,  with  lingering  sweetness  in  his  voice — 

"  Mahn  dear,  here's  wussin*  ye  a  Merry  Chris- 
muss." 


19  277 


THE  TERROR  OF   DARKNESS 

"  South  70*  E.,  sir,  weather's  a  bit  sulky  and  in- 
clined to  dirt  before  daylight,  I  should  think.  Lot  of 
ships  about.  Bishop  bore  N.  20°  W.  fifteen  miles  off 
at  eight  bells  (4  a.m.).  Good  morning."  And  as  he 
uttered  the  last  words  the  second  officer  of  the  Kafir- 
stan,  10,000-ton  cargo  steamer,  London  to  Boston, 
U.S.,  swung  his  burly  form  down  the  lee-bridge  lad- 
der, and  the  darkness  swallowed  him  up.  The  chief, 
who  had  just  relieved  him,  mumbled  out  "  G'mornin' " 
in  the  midst  of  a  cavernous  yawn,  not  because  he  was 
churlish  or  out  of  humour,  but  for  the  reason  that  be 
a  man  never  so  seasoned,  the  sudden  transition  from 
the  cosy  recesses  of  a  warm  bunk  and  sweet  sleep  to  a 
narrow  platform  some  forty  feet  above  the  sea,  fully 
exposed  to  the  wrathful  edge  of  a  winter  gale  at  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  does  not  predispose  him  to 
cheerful  conversation,  or  indeed  any  other  of  the 
amenities  of  life,  until  the  wonderful  adaptability  of 
the  human  body  has  had  time  to  adjust  itself  to  the 
altered  conditions. 

Xo;  John  Fumess,  chief  mate,  was  anything  but  a 
sulky  man.  Buffeted  by  the  storms  of  Fate  from  his 
earliest  youth  in  far  fiercer  fashion  than  ever  the 
gales  of  winter  had  smitten  him,  he  was  now  by  way  of 

279 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

esteeming  himself  one  of  the  most  fortunate  of  man- 
kind, for,  after  serving  as  second  mate  for  several  years 
with  a  chief  and  master's  ticket,  and  never  getting  a 
better  berth  than  some  thousand-ton  tramp  could 
afford  him,  he  had  suddenly  taken  unto  himself  a  wife 
— a  dear  girl,  as  poor  and  as  friendless  as  himself — 
with  the  quaint  remark  that  the  best  thing  to  do  with 
two  lonely  people  was  to  make  'em  one,  on  the  prin- 
ciple that  like  cures  like.  And  with  his  marriage  his 
luck  seemed  to  have  turned.  On  the  second  day  of 
his  honeymoon  he  was  taking  his  young  wife  round 
the  docks,  and  pointing  out  to  her  the  various  ships — 
like  introducing  her  to  old  acquaintances — when  sud- 
denly, with  a  bound,  he  left  her  side  and  disappeared 
over  the  edge  of  a  jetty.  He  had  caught  sight  of  an 
old  gentleman  who  had  tripped  his  foot  in  a  coil  of 
rope  and  tumbled  over  it  and  the  edge  of  the  pier  at 
the  same  time.  John's  promptitude  cost  him  a  wet- 
ting, but  got  him  his  present  berth,  the  best  he  had 
ever  held  in  his  life,  and  his  heart  beat  high  with  hope 
that  at  last  he  was  on  the  high  road  to  fortune. 

Still,  all  these  pleasant  recollections  didn't  prevent 
him  feeling  sleepy  and  chilly  upon  relieving  his  ship- 
mate. Vigorously  he  called  up  his  resources  of  en- 
ergy, peering  through  the  thick  gloom  ahead  at  the 
twinkling  gleams  showing  here  and  there,  betokening 
the  presence  of  other  ships.  Far  beneath  him  the 
untiring  engines,  with  their  Titanic  thrust  and  recover, 
kept  his  lofty  station  a-quiver  as  they  drove  the  huge 
mass  of  the  Kafirstan  steadily  onward  against  the 
fierce  and  increasing  storm.    Again  and  again  he  an- 

280 


The  Terror  of  Darkness 

swered  cheerily  to  the  look-out  man's  taps  on  the  bells 
announcing  lights  "  All  right,"  and  as  often  by  a  word 
to  the  helmsman  behind  him,  altered  his  great  vessel's 
course  a  little  to  port  or  starboard  in  order  to  avoid 
collision  with  the  passing  ships.  All  this  in  the  usual 
course  of  routine — it  is  what  hundreds  of  men  like  him 
are  doing  this  morning,  thinking  no  more  of  the  mag- 
nitude of  the  forces  they  control  than  a  cabman  who 
navigates  the  crowded  London  streets  dwells  upon 
what  would  happen  if  he  should  spill  his  fare  under  a 
passing  waggon.  It  is,  above  all  things,  necessary  at 
sea  to  refrain  from  dwelling  upon  what  may  happen. 
The  one  thing  needful  is  to  be  equal  to  each  duty  as 
it  arises.  And  John  Furness  was  undoubtedly  that. 
But  suddenly  an  awful  crash  flung  him  backwards; 
his  head  struck  against  a  stanchion  of  the  bridge,  a 
myriad  lights  gleamed  before  his  glazing  eyes,  and  he 
knew  no  more — knew  nothing,  that  is,  of  the  short, 
stern  agony  through  which  his  shipmates  passed  as  the 
huge  fabric  beneath  them  admitted  the  supremacy  of 
the  ever-watchful  sea.  She  had  met — her  mass  of 
10,000  tons  or  so  being  hurled  along  at  the  rate  of 
twelve  miles  an  hour — with  the  Terror  of  the  Dark- 
ness, a  derelict  just  awash,  one  of  those  ancient  Nor- 
wegian timber-scows,  the  refuse  of  the  sea,  that  crawl 
to  and  fro  across  the  Atlantic  on  sufferance,  until  there 
comes  a  day  when  the  half-frozen  crew  are  swept  from 
the  top  of  the  slippery  deck-load,  the  sea  pours  in 
through  a  hundred  openings,  and  she  becomes  one  of 
the  most  awful  dangers  known  to  mariners — a  water- 
logged derelict.     Floating  just  awash  at  the  will  of 

281 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

ocean  currents,  she  cannot  be  located  with  any  degree 
of  certainty,  but  solid  almost  as  a  rock  she  drifts 
silently  across  the  great  ocean  highway  invisible,  un- 
heard, a  lier-in-wait  for  the  lives  of  men. 

When  John  Fumess  returned  to  consciousness 
again,  he  became  aware  of  acute  pains  all  over  his 
body.  Also  that  he  was  not  drowning,  although  at 
intervals  waves  washed  over  him.  Gradually  he  real- 
ized that  he  was  clinging  desperately,  mechanically, 
but  with  such  force  that  he  could  hardly  unbend  the 
grip  of  his  hands,  to  a  slimy  rope.  But  where?  As 
his  mind  cleared,  and  the  certainty  of  the  awful  tragedy 
that  had  just  passed  over  him  and  left  him  still  alive 
became  borne  in  upon  him,  he  felt  his  heart  swell.  He 
thought  of  the  handful  of  brave  men,  of  whom  he  had 
already  got  to  know  every  one,  suddenly  hurled  into 
oblivion  with  all  the  hopes  and  love  of  which  each 
was  the  centre.  And  a  few  heavy  drops  rolled  out 
from  his  brine-encrusted  eyes.  Then  he  thought  of 
Mary — his  Mary — and  at  the  same  moment  realized 
his  duty :  to  strive  after  life  for  her  sake.  The  im- 
pulse was  needed,  because  that  lethargy  that  means  a 
loss  of  the  desire  to  live  was  fast  stealing  over  him. 
With  a  great  effort  that  sent  racking  pains  through  his 
stiffened  body  he  turned  his  face  upwards,  passed  one 
hand  across  his  face,  and  saw  where  he  was.  Lying 
upon  the  slope  of  a  bank  thickly  overgrown  with  dank 
green  weed  like  fine  hair,  and  with  a  strong  fishy  smell. 
With  awakening  interest  he  peered  at  the  rope  he 
held — it,  too,  was  thickly  draped  with  the  same  growth, 
but  in  addition,  beneath  the  weed,  it  was  encrusted 

282 


The  Terror  of  Darkness 

with  jagged  little  shells.  More  than  this  he  could 
hardly  discern  for  the  present,  because  it  was  still 
dark ;  but  as  his  senses  resumed  their  normal  keenness 
of  apprehension,  he  knew  that  he  was  afloat,  and 
guessed  the  truth — that  by  some  mysterious  means  he 
had  been  preserved  from  drowning  by  laying  hold  of 
the  same  cause  that  had  sent  all  his  late  shipmates  to 
their  sudden  end.  A  low,  sullen  murmur  smote  upon 
his  ears,  for  the  wind  had  gone  down,  and  the  resentful 
sea  still  rolled  its  broken  surface  violently  in  the  direc- 
tion in  which  it  had  been  so  fiercely  driven,  making 
John's  holding-on  place  roll  and  heave  in  a  heavy,  life- 
less manner.  The  grey,  cheerless  dawn  struggled 
through  the  thick  pall  of  clouds  still  draping  the  sky, 
and  by  the  cold  light  the  shivering  man  saw  the  full 
horror  of  his  surroundings.  He  was  clinging  to  the 
last  rag  of  running-gear  trailing  from  the  short  stump 
of  the  mainmast  of  a  large  ship — a  ship  that  must,  at 
least,  have  been  of  seventeen  or  eighteen  hundred 
tons  burden.  She  lay  with  one  side  of  the  deck  well 
below  the  water,  and  the  other  some  ten  feet  above  it. 
Not  a  vestige  of  bulwarks,  cabin,  or  fo'c'sle  appeared 
on  deck,  all  was  flush  as  if  mowed  off  by  some  gigantic 
scythe.  Only  a  little  forrard  of  where  John  lay  was 
a  gash  cut  into  her  side  at  right  angles,  revealing 
within  sodden  masses  of  timber  also  crushed  and 
broken  by  the  terrible  impact  of  that  blow.  And  as 
he  looked  at  the  wedge-shaped  wound  there  came  back 
to  him,  as  if  in  a  dream  of  some  former  life,  the  shock, 
the  few  seconds'  realization  of  that  fatal  blow  dealt  her- 
self by  the  Kafirstan,  before  he  had  lost  consciousness 

283 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

to  resume  it  here.  And  knowing  the  build  of  the 
steamer  as  he  did,  he  had  not  the  faintest  hope  of  her 
having  survived  for  even  an  hour.  His  chief  long- 
ing was  that  sufficient  time  had  been  allowed  his  ship- 
mates to  get  into  the  boats  and  pull  away  from  the 
frightful  vortex  of  the  sinking  Kafirstan. 

The  light  having  become  sufficiently  strong  for 
him  to  see  thoroughly  well,  he  made  another  heroic 
efifort,  and  commenced  to  explore  his  prison.  And  as 
soon  as  he  did  so,  he  realized  how  long  this  dangerous 
obstruction  had  been  drifting  about  the  ocean.  For 
she  was  literally  undistinguishable,  except  to  a  sea- 
man's eye,  from  a  woni  and  sea-beaten  rock.  Through 
the  crevices  in  her  deck  and  the  gap  made  by  the 
Kafirstan,  he  could  see  hosts  of  fish,  legions  of  crabs  of 
various  kinds,  and  nowhere,  except  at  the  point  where 
she  had  been  run  into,  was  there  a  square  inch  that 
was  not  thickly  hidden  by  the  sea-growth  of  weed  and 
shells.  He  dragged  himself  up  to  the  stump  of  the 
mainmast,  and,  bracing  himself  erect  against  it,  looked 
long  and  earnestly  around  the  lowering  horizon;  but 
he  was  quite  alone.  Not  a  gleam  of  sail  or  a  wreath 
of  smoke  was  to  be  seen.  But  he  was  a  man  who, 
while  never  very  sanguine  about  his  "  luck,"  had  a 
wonderful  fund  of  hope,  and  in  spite  of  the  dismal 
outlook,  he  felt  no  despair.  Nevertheless,  that  he 
might  not  brood,  he  determined  to  be  busy,  and  drag- 
ging himself  aft  with  the  utmost  caution  that  he  might 
not  slide  oflF  that  slimy  slope  into  the  cold  sea  to  lee- 
ward, he  reached  the  yawning  cavity,  where  once  the 
companion  or  entrance  to  the  lower  cabin  had  been. 

284 


The  Terror  of  Darkness 

Peering  down,  the  sight  was  not  encouraging,  al- 
though the  dark  water  did  not  here  come  so  close  up 
to  the  deck  as  forward.  But  he  was  bound  to  explore, 
even  if  he  had  to  swim,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  em- 
ployment ;  so  crawling  over  the  edge,  he  dropped  below 
into  water  up  to  his  waist,  and  immediately  struggled 
to  windward,  where  to  his  content  he  found  he  could 
move  about  above  water.  He  entered  what  he  took 
to  be  the  skipper's  cabin,  noticing  with  a  queer  feel- 
ing of  sympathy  the  few  remnants  of  clothing  hang- 
ing from  hooks  like  silent  witnesses  of  the  tragedy  of 
long  ago.  To  his  surprise,  he  found  that  everything 
was  left  as  if  in  the  midst  of  ordinary  life ;  the  owner 
had  been  carried  off  without  a  moment  in  which  to 
return  for  anything  he  might  value.  Even  the  bed- 
clothes, dank  and  sodden,  lay  as  they  had  been  jumped 
out  of,  well  tucked  in  at  the  foot  of  the  bunk  by  a 
careful  steward.  With  a  sense  of  sacrilege  that  he 
found  it  hard  to  shake  off,  John  tried  the  drawers,  and 
the  woodwork  fell  away  at  his  touch.  Clothes,  papers, 
photographs  within  lay  in  pulpy  masses  where  the  in- 
vading sea  had  so  long  drained  through  on  to  them. 
But  the  searcher  turned  all  over,  listlessly,  mechani- 
cally, until  the  hot  blood  suddenly  surged  to  his  head 
as  he  heard  a  musical  jingle.  With  feverish  haste  he 
pulled  out  the  lumps  of  dank  stuff  until  at  the  bottom 
of  the  drawer  he  found  a  heap  of  gold  coins  which  he 
had  evidently  disturbed  by  twitching  at  the  rotted  bag 
which  had  contained  them.  Gathering  them  all  to- 
gether without  counting,  he  shovelled  them  into  the 
two  inner  pockets  of  his  pea-coat,  afterwards  tearing 

285 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

open  the  lining  and  securing  the  necks  of  the  pockets 
by  a  piece  of  roping  twine,  of  which  he  was  never 
without  a  small  ball. 

Then  with  almost  frantic  haste  he  scrambled  on 
deck,  feeling  as  if  by  being  down  there  another  minute 
he  might  be  risking  his  chance  of  rescue.  But  when 
he  again  reached  the  mainmast  and  looked  around 
only  the  same  blank  circle  greeted  him.  And  his 
mind,  until  then  fairly  calm,  fiercely  rebelled  at  the 
idea  of  being  lost  now,  when  the  weight  burdening 
him  told  him  that  should  he  reach  home  again,  he 
would  be  able  to  secure  a  position  for  himself  as  cap- 
tain of  a  ship  by  the  hitherto  impossible  means  of  buy- 
ing an  interest  in  her.  .  Had  he  waited  to  analyze  his 
feelings,  he  would  no  doubt  have  wondered  why  the 
possession  of  a  little  gold  should  have  the  power  to 
change  his  usually  calm  and  philosophic  behaviour 
into  the  fretful  eager  frame  in  which  he  now  found 
himself ;  but  at  the  time  all  his  hopes,  all  his  energies, 
were  concentrated  upon  the  one  idea,  how  to  save,  not 
merely  his  life,  but  his  newly  gotten  gold  for  the  en- 
joyment of  that  dear  one  bravely  waiting  at  home. 

The  long  bitter  day  passed  without  other  sign  of 
life  around,  than  the  occasional  deep  breathing  of  a 
whale  close  at  hand,  or  the  frolicsome  splash  of  a  pass- 
ing porpoise.  His  vitality,  great  though  it  was,  began 
to  fail  under  the  combined  influences  of  cold  and  hun- 
ger and  thirst.  So  that  he  passed  uneasily  to  and  fro 
between  sleeping  and  waking,  only  dimly  conscious  all 
the  time  of  decreasing  ability  to  resist  the  combined 
influences  of  these  foes  to  life.    Day  faded  into  night, 

286 


The  Terror  of  Darkness 

and  still  the  wind  did  not  rise,  although  the  sky  con- 
tinually threatened,  being  so  lowering  that  the  night 
shade  was  almost  opaque.  As  he  lay  semi-conscious 
some  mysterious  premonition  smote  him  to  his  very 
vitals,  and  raised  him  erect  with  such  nervous  energy- 
that  he  felt  transformed.  There,  almost  upon  him, 
glared  the  two  red  and  green  eyes  of  a  great  ship, 
while,  high  above,  the  far-reaching  electric  beams  from 
her  fore  masthead  made  a  wide  white  track  through 
the  darkness.  He  shouted  with,  as  it  seemed  to  him, 
ten  voices,  "  Ship  ahoy."  And  back  like  an  echo  came 
the  reply,  "  Hullo."  The  alarm  was  taken,  and  close 
aboard  of  the  derelict  the  huge  mail  steamer  came  to 
a  standstill,  saved  from  destruction.  In  ten  minutes 
John  Furness  was  in  safety,  and  three  days  after  he 
landed  in  London,  bringing  the  first  news  of  the  loss 
of  the  Kafirstan.  And  in  three  days  more  his  treasure 
trove  had  secured  for  him  the  position  he  had  so  long 
fruitlessly  striven  to  obtain  by  merit  and  hard  work. 


287 


THE  WATCHMEN  OF  THE  WORLD 

There  is  surely  high  inspiration  in  the  thought 
that  of  all  the  mighty  civilizations  that  have  emerged 
in  these  latter  days,  there  is  none  that  dare  claim  the 
comprehensive  title  given  to  this  paper  without  fear 
of  contradiction,  save  ourselves.  For  the  function  of 
the  Watchman  is  to  keep  the  peace,  to  restrain  law- 
lessness, to  bring  evil-doers  to  justice,  and  to  hold 
himself  unspotted  from  even  the  tiniest  speck  of  in- 
justice. At  least  these  should  be  his  functions,  and  if 
they  seem  to  be  counsels  of  perfection,  the  aiming 
thereat  with  persistent  courage  is  continually  bring- 
ing them  nearer  a  perfect  realization.  And  if  this  be 
so  with  individual  watchmen,  it  is  infinitely  more  so 
with  those  typical  Watchers  of  the  Empire,  of  whom 
I  would  now  speak,  the  splendid,  ubiquitous,  and  ever- 
ready  British  Navy.  It  would  be  an  uplifting  exer- 
cise for  some  of  us,  widening  our  outlook  upon  life, 
and  enlightening  us  as  to  the  majestic  part  our  coun- 
try has  been  called  upon  to  play  at  this  wonderful 
period  of  the  world's  history,  if  we  were  to  get  a  ter- 
restrial globe,  a  number  of  tiny  white  flags,  and  a  list 
of  positions  of  all  our  men-o'-war.  Then  by  sticking 
in  a  flag  for  every  ship  wherever  she  was  stationed,  or 
on  passage  at  the  lime,  we  should  have  a  bird's-eye 

289 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

view  as  it  were  of  the  "  beats  "  which  our  Empire 
Watchmen  patrol  unceasingly. 

From  end  to  end  of  the  great  Middle  Sea  wherein 
we  hold  but  those  dots  upon  the  map,  Gibraltar  and 
Malta  and  Cyprus,  whose  shores  bristle  with  hostile 
populations,  our  stately  squadrons  parade,  not  on  suf- 
ferance, but  as  a  right,  none  daring  to  say  them  nay. 
Their  business  is  peaceful,  although  they  have  enor- 
mous force  ready  to  use  if  need  be,  the  duty  of  keep- 
ing Britain's  trade  routes  clear,  that  the  shuttles  weav- 
ing the  vast  web  of  world-wide  trade  that  we  have 
built  up  may  glide  to  and  fro  in  security  even  though 
envious  nations  gnash  upon  us  with  their  teeth,  and 
vainly  endeavour  by  every  species  of  chicane  and  un- 
derhand meanness  to  rob  us  of  the  fruits  of  centuries 
of  industry.  In  two  Mediterranean  countries  alone  are 
our  ships  of  war  heartily  welcome.  Italy  and  Greece 
remember  gratefully  our  constant  friendship.  Italians 
of  all  classes  are  acquainted  with  the  practical  good- 
will of  Great  Britain,  and  so  man-o'-war  Jack  is  sure 
of  warm  reception  throughout  that  lovely  country. 
Not  that  the  manner  of  his  reception  troubles  the 
worthy  tar  at  all.  Oh  no.  The  keynote  of  the  chorus 
that  is  perpetually  being  chanted  in  the  British  Navy 
is  duty.  The  word  is  seldom  mentioned,  but  better 
than  that,  it  is  lived.  It  enables  the  sailor  to  spend  un- 
murmuringly  long  periods  of  absolute  torture  under 
the  blazing  furnace  of  the  Persian  Gulf,  an  oven  that 
while  it  burns  does  not  dry  ;  where  the  soaking  dews  of 
the  night  lie  thickly  upon  the  decks  throughout  the 
scorching   day,    and    are   not    dispersed    because   the 

290 


The  Watchmen  of  the  World 

molten  air  is  overloaded  with  moisture,  and  life  is  lived 
in  a  vapour-bath.  Here  you  will  find  the  young  men 
of  gentle  birth  who  govern  in  our  fighting  ships,  for- 
getting their  own  physical  miseries,  in  the  brave  effort 
to  make  the  severe  conditions  more  tolerable  to  the 
crews  they  command.  Do  their  dimmed  eyes  often  in 
the  steaming  night  turn  wistfully  westward  to  the  cool 
green  English  country-side,  where  the  old  home  lies 
embowered  amid  the  ancestral  oaks?  Why,  certainly, 
but  that  does  not  make  the  young  officer's  zeal  any 
weaker,  does  not  damp  his  ardour  to  sustain  the  great 
traditions  which  are  the  pride  and  glory  of  the  service 
to  which  it  is  his  greatest  delight  to  belong. 

Or  creep  down  the  coast  of  East  Africa,  throbbing, 
palpitating  under  that  fervent  heat  glare,  and  see  the 
St.  George's  Cross  proudly  waving  over  the  sterns  of 
the  gun-boats  set  by  Britain  to  quell  the  bloodthirsty 
Arab's  lust  for  slavery.  Here  is  manifest  such  devo- 
tion to  an  ideal,  albeit  that  ideal  is  never  formulated  in 
so  many  words,  as  should  stir  the  most  prosaic,  matter- 
of-fact  minds  among  us.  I  well  remember — could  I 
ever  forget? — a  visit  I  once  paid  to  H.M.S.  London, 
sometime  depot  ship  at  Zanzibar.  It  was  a  privilege 
that  I  valued  highly,  not  knowing  then  that  with  a 
high  courtesy  our  country's  men-o'-war  are  always 
accessible  at  reasonable  times  to  any  citizen  who 
would  see  with  his  own  eyes  how  his  home  is  defended 
and  by  whom.  I  was  then  mate  of  a  trading  vessel  that 
had  brought  supplies  from  home  for  the  use  of  the 
East  Indian  fleet,  and  consequently  my  business  took 
me  on  board  the  depot  ship  often.    First  of  all  I  was 

291 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

shown  the  hospital,  a  long  airy  apartment  on  the  upper 
deck,  kept  as  cool  as  science  could  devise  in  that  burn- 
ing climate,  and  fitted  with  all  the  alleviations  for  sick- 
ness that  wise  skill  and  forethought  could  compass. 
Here  they  lay,  the  heroes  of  the  long,  long  fight,  the 
never-ending  battle  of  freedom  against  slavery,  the  men 
who  had  left  their  pleasant  land  for  service  under  the 
flag  of  England  against  a  foreign  foe ;  yes,  and  far  more 
than  that.  For  we  know  that  they  who  fight  in  the 
deadliest  combat  with  lethal  weapons  are  upheld  and 
swept  onward  by  the  fierce  joy  of  strife ;  so  that  death 
when  it  comes  is  no  terror,  and  fear  vanishes  under  the 
pressure  of  primitive  instincts.  But  here  there  is  no 
glitter,  no  glamour  of  battle.  Forgotten  by  the  world, 
unknown  to  the  immense  majority  of  their  countrymen, 
these  Britons  suffer  and  die  that  the  fair  fame  of  their 
country  may  live.  There,  in  that  miniature  hospital, 
on  board  H.M.S.  London,  I  saw  rows  of  pale,  patient 
figures,  their  faces  drawn  and  parchment-like  with 
fever,  the  deadly  malaria  of  that  poisonous  coast,  while 
amongst  them  passed  silently  doctors  and  sick-bay 
attendants,  each  doing  his  part  in  the  universal  war- 
fare. Passing  thence  on  to  the  main  deck,  I  came 
across  a  bronzed,  busy  group  hoisting  up  a  steam  pin- 
nace that  had  just  returned  from  a  cruise  among  the 
slimy  creeks  and  backwaters  of  the  mainland  and  ad- 
jacent islands,  busily  seeking  for  hunters  of  human 
flesh.  A  dozen  men  formed  her  crew,  men  who  had 
once  been  white  Anglo-Saxons,  but  were  now,  after  a 
week's  cruise  under  such  conditions  as  that,  so  dis- 
guised by  ingrained  dirt,  so  scorched  and  dried  by  ex- 

292 


The  Watchmen  of  the  World 

posure  to  that  terrible  sun,  that  they  were  indistinguish- 
able save  by  their  clothing  from  the  Arabs  they  had 
been  set  to  watch.  They  were  not  happy,  because  hav- 
ing chased  a  dhow,  which  they  were  sure  was  packed 
with  slaves,  throughout  a  day  and  a  night,  they  had 
been  baffled  upon  coming  up  with  her,  by  her  hoisting 
the  tricolour  of  France,  the  Flag  of  Liberty,  Equality 
and  Fraternity,  sold  for  a  few  paltry  dollars,  to  cover  a 
traffic  which  the  French  nation  had  covenanted  to  as- 
sist in  putting  down.  More  than  that,  a  deep  gloom 
pervaded  the  whole  ship  on  account  of  their  recent 
loss ;  a  loss  which  to  them  seemed  irreparable.  Their 
captain,  idolized  by  them  all,  had  been  killed  while 
engaged  in  an  act  of  gallantry,  typical  of  the  service. 
He  had  gone  oflf  like  any  sub-lieutenant  with  all  his 
honours  to  win,  in  a  chase  after  a  dhow,  with  only  a 
weak  boat's  crew.  The  villainous  Arabs  in  the  dhow, 
seeing  their  advantage,  turned  and  fought  desperately. 
Outnumbered  by  five  to  one,  and  being  moreover  the 
attacking  party,  the  Britons  were  beaten  off,  while  a 
shot  from  one  of  the  antiquated  guns  carried  by  an 
Arab  slaver  slew  Captain  Brownlow  on  the  spot.  And 
all  his  men  mourned  him  most  deeply  and  sincerely. 

But  cross  over  the  Indian  Ocean,  and  thread  the 
tortuous  ways  of  the  East  Indian  Archipelago,  and 
you  shall  find  the  beautiful  white  flag  with  its  red 
cross  flying  in  the  most  out-of-the-way  nooks  among 
that  tremendous  maze.  Here  with  never-ceasing  la- 
bours the  highly  trained  officers  of  our  navy  work  with 
loving  care  to  make  perfect  our  geographical  knowl- 
edge of  those  intricate  current-scoured  channels.  By 
»  293 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

reason  of  this  long-drawn-out  toil  our  merchant  ships 
are  enabled  to  pursue  their  peaceful  way  with  perfectly 
trustworthy  charts  to  guide  them.  Not  only  so,  but, 
owing  to  the  dauntless  courage,  energy,  and  persever- 
ance of  these  nameless  seafarers,  those  tortuous  waters 
have  been  cleansed  of  the  human  tigers  that  had  for  so 
long  infested  them,  swooping  down  upon  hapless  mer- 
chantmen of  all  nations,  pitiless  and  insatiable  as  death 
itself.  Within  the  lifetime  of  men  of  middle  age  those 
seas  were  like  a  hornet's  nest.  In  every  creek,  estuary, 
and  channel  lurked  Portuguese,  Malay,  and  Chinese 
pirates,  the  terror  of  the  Eastern  seas.  Now,  solely 
through  the  exertions  of  our  countrymen,  or  by  their 
good  example  putting  heart  into  the  Chinese  sailors, 
those  waters  are  as  safe  as  the  English  Channel.  So, 
too,  have  the  coasts  of  China  itself  been  purged  of 
pirates,  although  there,  since  every  Chinese,  of  what- 
ever grade,  is  a  potential  pirate  or  brigand  given  the 
opportunity,  immunity  from  piratical  raids  is  only  pur- 
chased at  the  price  of  incessant  vigilance.  In  the  far 
Eastern  seas,  however,  our  stalwart  fighting  sailors 
are  more  than  mere  keepers  of  the  peace  of  Britain, 
they  stand  between  the  crumbling  Celestial  Empire 
and  the  greed  of  the  world.*  Ever  ready  in  diplomacy 
as  in  war,  and  with  a  force  always  sufficient  to  com- 
mand respect  as  well  as  breed  envy,  they  make  the 
might  of  our  island  nation  felt  in  all  the  affairs  of  the 
Far  East. 

Cross  the  Pacific,  and  on  the  western  sea-board  of 

*  This  sentence  was  written  before  the  recent  outbreak  of 
hostilities  in  China. 

294 


The  Watchmen  of  the  World 

our  vast  American  possessions  find  a  naval  station 
fully  equipped  for  the  maintenance  of  a  fleet  so  far 
from  home.  From  thence  the  peace-keepers  sally  forth 
all  over  the  length  and  breadth  of  Northern  Oceania 
and  all  down  the  western  littoral  of  the  great  American 
continent,  a  mobile  body  of  peace-keepers,  whose 
business  it  is  to  keep  widely  opened  eyes  upon  all  the 
doings  of  other  people,  no  matter  how  great  or  how 
small  they  may  be.  Hailed  with  delight  by  dusky 
populations,  who  hate  impartially  the  Germans  and 
the  French,  and  look  upon  the  war-canoes  of  the  great 
white  Queen  of  Belitani  as  the  adjusters  of  disputes 
and  the  even-handed  dispensers  of  justice  between 
them,  dreaded  by  the  rascaldom  of  the  Pacific ;  the  rob- 
bers of  men's  bodies  as  well  as  the  robbers  of  their 
produce,  truly  the  lads  under  the  White  Ensign  have  a 
wide  field  in  the  "  peaceful  "  ocean  for  their  benefi- 
cent labours.  Guarding  that  Greater  England  in  the 
Southern  seas,  where  men  of  every  nation  under 
heaven  find  the  same  security,  the  same  opportunities 
to  grow  rich  that  men  of  our  own  race  enjoy,  clus- 
tering closely  around  that  storm-centre  (in  a  double 
sense),  the  Cape  Colony,  patrolling  Western  Africa, 
as  well  as  Eastern,  and  ready  at  a  word  to  send  off 
a  compact  little  army  into  the  interior,  mobile  and 
manageable  as  no  shore  troops  can  ever  be;  among 
West  Indian  islands,  as  warm  and  fruitful  as  the  most 
northerly  American  station  is  cold  and  arid,  the  great 
patrol  goes  on. 

One  does  not  need  to  be  a  rabid  Imperialist  or  a 
raving  Jingo  to  feel  in  every  fibre  of  his  frame  the  debt 

295 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

that  we  Britons  owe  to  our  navy.  These  brave,  stal- 
wart men,  the  very  pick  and  flower  of  the  British  race, 
stand  continually  on  sentry  on  all  the  shores  of  all 
the  world — stand  to  guard  our  freedom,  and,  so  far  as 
one  nation  may  do,  strive  to  secure  freedom  for  all 
other  peoples.  We  see  but  little  of  them,  for  their 
parades  are  not  held  amid  shouting  crowds,  but  on  the 
lonely  waters,  under  an  Admiral's  eye,  keen  to  dis- 
cover defects  where  all  seems  to  an  untrained  observer 
perfection  of  power  and  movement ;  their  greatest 
deeds,  done  by  steady  presentation  of  an  unmistakable 
object-lesson  to  our  enemies — that  is  to  say,  to  a  full 
half  of  the  world,  bursting  with  envy  at  our  comfort 
and  prosperity — are  hidden  from  most  of  us. 

In  God's  name,  then,  let  us  see  that  we  do  not 
forget,  amid  the  security  and  plenty  that  we  enjoy, 
the  labours  of  those  who  are  watching,  far  out  of  our 
sight,  to  see  that  these  blessings  are  not  filched  from 
us.  Let  the  officers  and  men  of  the  Royal  Navy  see 
that  they  are  ever  in  our  thoughts,  that  out  of  sight 
out  of  mind  is  not  true  in  their  case,  but  that  stay-at- 
home  Britons  are  fully  conscious  that  the  outposts  of 
our  Empire,  the  piquets  of  our  power,  are  in  very  truth 
to  be  found  on  board  the  ships  of  the  Royal  Navy,  the 
Watchmen  of  the  World. 


296 


THE   COOK   OF  THE  WANDERER 

One  of  the  oldest,  truest,  and  most  often  quoted 
of  all  sea-sayings  is  that  "  God  sends  meat,  but  the 
devil  sends  cooks."  The  first  part  of  this  saw  is  really 
a  concession  on  the  sailor's  part,  for  few  of  them  truly 
believe  that  the  Deity  has  much  to  do  with  the  strange 
stuff  usually  served  out  as  meat  on  board  ship.  The 
latter  half  of  the  proverb  is  taken  for  granted,  and 
while  admitting  to  the  full  the  thanklessness  of  the 
task  of  endeavouring  to  dish  up  tasteful  meals  with 
such  unpromising  materials  as  are  usually  given  to 
sea-cooks  to  work  upon,  it  certainly  does  seem  truer 
than  the  majority  of  such  sayings  are  apt  to  be. 

But  in  justice  even  to  sea-cooks  let  it  be  said  that 
they  have  but  a  hard  life  of  it.  Cooking  is  a  hobby  of 
my  own,  and  I  feel  a  positive  delight  in  the  prepara- 
tion of  an  appetizing  dinner,  which  culminates  when 
those  for  whom  it  is  dressed  partake  of  it  with  manifest 
ejijoyment.  Between  the  calm,  unhindered  task  of 
shore-cooking  and  the  series  of  hair-breadth  escapes 
from  scalding,  burning,  or  spoiling  one's  produce  that 
characterizes  sea-cooking  there  is,  however,  a  great 
gulf  fixed,  and  with  a  full  consciousness  of  the  un- 
romantic  character  of  his  trials,  I  must  confess  a  deep 
sympathy  with  the  sea-cook  in  his  painful  profession. 

297 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

Even  in  the  well-ordered  kitchens  of  a  great  Hner, 
where  every  modern  appliance  known  to  the  art  is  at 
hand,  and  where  the  chief  cook  is  a  highly  paid  pro- 
fessional, each  recurring  meal  brings  with  it  much 
anxiety,  and,  when  the  weather  is  bad,  much  painful 
work  also.  There  is  no  allowance  made.  Whatever 
happens,  passengers  and  crew  must  be  fed,  although 
the  roasting  joints  may  be  playing  "  soccer  "  in  the 
ovens,  the  stew-pans  toboganning  over  the  stove-tops, 
and  the  huge  coppers  leaping  out  of  their  glowing 
sockets.  Let  all  who  have  ever  gone  down  to  the  sea 
as  passengers  remember  how  faithfully  the  cooks  have 
justified  the  confidence  reposed  in  them,  and  how 
punctually  the  varied  courses  have  appeared  on  the 
fiddle-hampered  tables  without  even  a  hint  as  to  the 
series  of  miracles  that  have  produced  them.  Still, 
in  large  passenger  steamers  there  is  a  fairly  large  staff 
of  cooks,  unto  each  of  whom  is  given  his  allotted  task, 
so  that  the  labour,  though  severe,  is  not  so  compli- 
cated as  it  must  necessarily  be  in  vessels  where  one 
unfortunate  man  must  needs  be  a  host  in  himself.  In 
sailing-ships  on  long  voyages  the  cook's  berth  is  per- 
haps the  worst  on  board,  for  he  has  to  hear  the  con- 
tinual growling  of  the  men  at  the  brutal  monotony 
of  the  food  (which  he  cannot  help),  and  he  must,  if  he 
would  not  be  badgered  to  death,  perform  the  difficult 
task  of  keeping  on  good  terms  with  both  ends  and  the 
middle  of  the  ship.  Under  the  blistering  sun  of  the 
tropics,  or  amid  the  fearful  buffeting  of  the  Southern 
seas,  he  must  perform  his  duties  within  a  space  about 
six  feet  square,  of  which  his  red-hot  stove  occupies 

298 


The  Cook  of  the  Wanderer 

nearly  half.  And,  as  a  pleasant  change,  he  is  liable  to 
have  the  weather  door  of  his  galley  burst  in  by  a  tre- 
mendous sea,  and  himself  in  a  devil's  dance  of  seething 
pots,  and  all  the  impedimenta  of  his  business  hurled 
out  to  leeward. 

Necessarily  such  a  service  does  not  appeal  strongly 
to  many,  and  often  in  English  vessels  of  small  size 
prowling  about  the  world  begging  for  freight,  some 
very  queer  fellows  are  met  with  filling  the  unenviable 
post  of  cook.  In  the  course  of  a  good  many  years  of 
sea-service  I  have  met  with  several  cooks,  each  of 
whom  deserves  a  whole  chapter  to  deal  comprehen- 
sively with  his  peculiarities,  but  chief  among  them  all 
must  be  placed  the  exceedingly  funny  fellow  desig- 
nated at  the  beginning  of  this  sketch.  The  Wanderer 
was  a  pretty  brigantine  of  about  200  tons  register,  built 
and  owned  in  Nova  Scotia,  and  at  the  time  of  my  join- 
ing her  as  an  A.B.  was  lying  in  the  Millwall  Docks 
outward  bound  to  Sydney,  Cape  Breton,  in  ballast. 
She  had  quite  a  happy  family  of  a  crew,  while  the  skip- 
per was  as  jolly  a  Canadian  as  it  was  ever  my  good 
fortune  to  meet  with.  We  left  the  docks  in  tow  of  one 
of  the  little  "  jackal  "  tugs  that  scoot  up  and  down  the 
Thames  like  terriers  after  rats,  but,  owing  to  the  ves- 
sel's small  size  and  wonderful  handiness,  we  dispensed 
with  our  auxiliary  just  below  Gravesend,  and  worked 
down  the  river  with  our  own  sails.  As  soon  as  the 
watches  were  set  all  hands  went  to  supper,  or  tea,  as 
it  would  be  called  ashore,  and  going  to  the  snug 
little  galley  with  my  hook-pot  for  my  modicum  of  hot 
tea,  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  cook.     He  was  a 

299 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

young  fellow  of  about  two  and  twenty,  able-looking 
enough,  but  now  evidently  ill  at  ease.  And  when, 
with  trembling  hand,  he  baled  my  tea  out  ot  a  grimy 
saucepan  with  another  saucepan  lid,  I  regarded  him 
with  some  curiosity,  fancying  that  he  had  the  air  of 
a  man  to  whom  his  surroundings  were  the  most  unfa- 
miliar possible.  Supper  consisted  of  some  cold  fresh 
meat  and  "  hard  tack,"  so  that  any  deficiency  in  the 
cookery  was  not  manifest  beyond  a  decidedly  foreign 
flavour  in  the  tea,  making  it  unlike  any  beverage  ever 
sampled  by  any  of  us  before.  But  we  were  a  good- 
natured  crowd,  willing  to  make  every  allowance  for  a 
first  performance,  and  aware  that  the  "  Doctor,"  as 
the  cook  is  always  called  at  sea,  had  only  joined  on 
the  previous  day.  Nevertheless,  we  discussed  him  in 
some  detail,  arriving  at  the  conclusion  that  by  all  ap- 
pearances he  would  be  found  unable  to  boil  salt  water 
without  burning  it,  which,  according  to  the  sea  phrase, 
marks  the  nadir  of  culinary  incompetence. 

Next  morning  it  was  my  "  gravy-eye  "  wheel,  the 
"  trick  "  that  is,  from  four  to  six  a.m.  The  cook  is 
always  called  at  four  a.m.  in  order  to  prepare  some  hot 
coffee  by  two  bells,  five  a.m.,  and,  as  may  be  ex- 
pected, the  comforting,  awakening  drink  is  eagerly 
looked  forward  to,  although  it  usually  bears  but  a 
faint  resemblance  to  the  fragrant  infusion  known  by 
the  same  name  ashore.  Two  bells  struck,  and  pres- 
ently, to  my  astonishment,  sounds  of  woe  arose  for- 
ward, mingled  with  many  angry  words,  I  listened 
eagerly  for  some  explanation  of  this  sudden  breach  of 
the  peace,  but  could  catch  no  connected  sentence. 

300 


The  Cook  of  the  Wanderer 

Presently  one  of  my  watchmates  came  aft  to  relieve 
me,  as  the  custom  is,  to  get  my  coffee,  and  I  eagerly 
questioned  him  as  to  the  nature  of  the  disturbance. 
With  a  sphinx-like  air  he  took  the  spokes  and  mut- 
tered, "  You'll  soon  see."  I  hastened  forward,  got  my 
pannikin,  and  going  to  the  galley  held  it  out  for  my 
coffee.  The  cook  had  no  light,  but  he  silently  poured 
me  out  my  portion,  and  wondering  at  his  strange  air 
I  returned  to  the  fo'c'sle.  I  sugared  my  coffee,  and 
put  it  to  my  lips,  but  with  a  feeUng  of  nausea  spat  out 
the  mouthful  I  had  taken,  saying,  "  What  in  thunder 
is  this  awful  stuff?"  Then  the  other  fellows  laughed 
mirthlessly  and  loud,  saying,  "  You'd  best  go'n  see  ef 
you  kin  fine  out.  Be  dam'  'fenny  ov  us  can  tell."  I 
hastened  back  to  the  galley  and  said  coaxingly,  "  Doc- 
tor, you  ain't  tryin'  to  poison  me,  are  ye  ?  "  He  looked 
at  me  appealingly,  and  I  saw  traces  of  recent  tear- 
tracks  adown  his  smoke-stained  cheeks.  "  Mahn,"  he 
said,  "  Ah've  niver  dune  ony  cookin'  afore,  an'  ah  must 
hev  made  some  awfu'  mistake,  but  ah'll  sweer  ony 
oo-ath  ah  dinna  ken  wut's  wrang  wi'  the  coaphy." 
And  he  wept  anew.  *'  For  Heaven's  sake,  don't  cry, 
man,"  I  put  in  hastily ;  "  you'll  make  me  sea-sick  if 
you  do.  Let  me  have  a  look  at  it."  I  stepped  into  his 
den,  and  striking  a  match  explored  the  pot  with  a 
ladle.  And  I  found  that  he  had  been  stewing  green 
unroasted  coffee  beans.  The  colour  was  brought 
somewhat  near  that  of  the  usual  product  by  reason  of 
the  remains  of  some  burnt  porridge  at  the  bottom  of 
the  saucepan,  but  the  taste  was  beyond  description 
evil. 

301 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

This  was  but  a  sorry  beginning  to  our  voyage, 
since  so  much  of  our  comfort  depended  upon  the 
cooking  of  our  victuals,  and  it  was  well  for  the  unfor- 
tunate cook  that  all  hands,  with  the  sole  exception  of 
the  mate,  were  of  that  easy-going  temper  that  sub- 
mits to  any  discomfort  rather  than  ill-use  a  fellow- 
creature.  For  Jemmie  (the  quondam  cook)  was  not 
only  ignorant  of  the  most  elementary  acquaintance 
with  cookery — he  was  also  unclean  and  unhandy  to 
the  uttermost  imaginable  possibility  of  those  bad 
qualities.  Yet  he  did  not  suffer  any  grievous  bodily 
harm  until  an  excess  of  new-found  zeal  brought  him 
one  day  into  contact  with  the  mate.  As  the  only  way 
in  which  we  could  hope  to  get  anything  beyond  hard 
tack  to  eat,  we  had  all  taken  turns  to  cook  our  own 
meals.  Even  the  skipper,  with  many  uncouth,  un- 
meant threats,  used  to  visit  the  galley  and  try  his  hand, 
while  the  trembling  Jemmie  stood  behind  him  watch- 
ing with  eager  eyes  the  mysterious  operations  going 
on.  One  morning  the  skipper  fancied  some  flap-jacks, 
a  sort  of  primitive  pancake  of  plain  flour  and  water 
fried  in  grease,  and  eaten  with  molasses.  He  had 
hardly  finished  a  platter  full  and  borne  it  aft,  when 
Jemmie  seized  the  bowl,  and  mixing  some  more  flour, 
proceeded  to  try  his  hand.  He  managed  after  sev- 
eral failures  to  turn  out  half  a  dozen  quite  creditable- 
looking  patches  of  fried  batter,  and  intoxicated  with 
his  success  rushed  aft  with  them  to  where  the  mate 
and  his  watch  were  busy  scrubbing  the  poop.  Tim- 
idly approaching  the  energetic  officer,  Jemmy  said, 
"  Wou'd  ye  like  a  flap-jack,  sir?  they're  nice  an'  hot." 

302 


The  Cook  of  the  Wanderer 

For  one  fearful  moment  the  mate  glared  at  the 
offender,  then  as  the  full  area  of  the  enormity  en- 
veloped him  he  uttered  a  hyena-like  howl  and  fell 
upon  him.  Snatching  the  flap-jacks  from  his  nerveless 
grasp,  the  mate  overthrew  him,  and  frantically  bur- 
nished his  face  with  the  smoking  dough,  holding  him 
down  on  the  deck  by  his  hair  the  while.  Then  when 
the  last  fragments  had  been  duly  spread  over  Jemmie's 
shining  visage,  the  mate  dragged  him  to  the  break  of 
the  poop,  and  with  many  kicks  hurled  him  forward  to 
make  more  flap-jacks  should  he  feel  moved  so  to  do. 

So  his  education  proceeded,  until  one  day  he  felt 
competent  to  essay  the  making  of  some  soup  for  us 
forward.  By  the  time  his  preparations  were  complete 
he  was  a  gruesome  object,  and  withal  so  weary  that  he 
sat  down  on  the  coal-locker  and  went  fast  asleep.  He 
awoke  just  before  the  time  the  soup  was  due  to  be 
eaten  to  find  it  as  he  left  it,  the  fire  having  gone  out. 
In  a  terrible  fright  he  rushed  aft  and  smuggled  a  tin 
of  preserved  meat  forward — a  high  crime  and  misde- 
meanour— since  that  was  only  kept  in  case  of  bad 
weather  rendering  cooking  impossible.  However,  he 
succeeded  in  stealing  it,  but  when  he  had  got  it  he  was 
little  better  off.  For  he  didn't  know  how  to  shell  it,  as 
it  were,  how  to  get  the  meat  out  of  the  tin.  I  hap- 
pened to  be  passing  by  the  galley-door  at  the  time, 
and  saw  him  with  the  tin  lying  on  its  side  before  him, 
while  he  was  insanely  chopping  at  it  with  a  broad  axe, 
all  unheeding  the  spray  of  fat  and  gravy  which  flew 
around  at  each  swashing  blow.  I  gave  him  such  assist- 
ance as  I  could,  and  took  the  opportunity  thus  afforded 

303 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

of  asking  him  however  he  came  to  offer  himself  as  a 
ship's  cook.  I  learned  then  that  his  previous  sea  ex- 
perience had  been  limited  to  one  trip  to  Iceland  as  a 
bedroom  steward  on  board  a  passenger  steamer  from 
Leith — that  having  come  to  London  to  seek  his  for- 
tune, he  had  foregathered  with  an  old  friend  of  his 
father's,  who  had  obtained  for  him  this  berth,  and  who, 
in  answer  to  his  timid  demur  as  to  his  being  able  to 
do  what  should  be  required  of  him,  stormed  at  him 
so  vigorously  for  what  he  called  his  "  dam'  cowardice  " 
that  he  took  the  berth,  and  resigned  himself  to  his 
fate,  and  ours.  His  fates  were  kind  to  him  in  that  he 
fell  among  easy-going  fellows,  for  I  shudder  to  think 
what  would  have  befallen  him  in  the  average  "  Blue- 
nose  "  or  Yankee.  A  description  of  it  would  certainly 
have  been  unprintable. 

Yet,  like  so  many  other  people  ashore  and  afloat, 
he  was  ungrateful  for  the  many  ways  in  which  we,  the 
sailors,  helped  and  shielded  him,  and  one  day  when  I 
found  him  laboriously  drawing  water  from  our  only 
wooden  tank  by  the  quarter  pint  for  the  purpose  of 
washing  potatoes,  in  answer  to  my  remonstrance  he 
was  exceeding  jocose  and  saucy,  even  going  so  far  as 
to  suggest  that  while  my  advice  was  doubtless  well 
meant,  it  irked  him  to  hear,  and  I  had  better  attend  to 
my  own  business.  Now,  to  use  fresh  water  where  salt 
water  will  serve  the  same  purpose  is  at  sea  the  un- 
pardonable sin;  and  where  (as  in  our  case)  a  few  days' 
difference  in  the  length  of  the  passage  might  see  us 
all  gasping  for  a  drink,  it  merits  a  severe  punishment. 
So  I  was  indignant,  but  swallowed  my  resentment  as  I 

304 


The  Cook  of  the  Wanderer 

saw  the  mate  coming  down  from  aloft  with  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  criminal. 

I  must  draw  a  veil  over  what  followed,  only  add- 
ing that  by  the  time  the  cook  had  recovered  from  his 
injuries  we  were  in  port,  and,  with  the  luck  of  the  in- 
competent, no  sooner  had  he  been  bundled  ashore 
than  he  obtained  a  good  berth  in  an  hotel  at  about 
treble  the  salary  he  would  ever  earn.  But  we  held  a 
praise-meeting  over  our  happy  release. 


305 


THE  GREAT  CHRISTMAS  OF  GOZO 

On  the  eve  of  the  nativity  of  our  Blessed  Lord 
A.D.  1 55 1  there  was  profound  peace  in  Gozo. 

The  assaults  of  the  infidel  had  for  so  long  a  time 
been  intermitted,  that  the  simple  hardy  islanders  had 
almost  come  to  believe  that  they  would  always  be  left 
in  peace  to  cultivate  their  tiny  fields,  to  worship  God 
after  their  own  sweet  manner,  and  to  rest  quietly  in 
their  little  square  stone  dwellings,  secure  from  the 
attacks  of  the  swarthy,  merciless  monsters  that,  not 
content  with  the  possession  of  their  own  sunny  lands, 
had  so  often  swarmed  across  the  bright  blue  stretches 
of  sea  separating  the  Maltese  Islands  from  Africa. 

Over  the  main  thoroughfare  of  Rabato,  the  prin- 
cipal town  of  the  tiny  island  that  hung  like  a  jewel  in 
the  ear  of  Malta  the  Beautiful,  the  great  square  citadel 
of  the  knights  kept  grim  watch  and  ward.  It  rose 
sheer  from  the  street  for  one  hundred  feet  of  height,  a 
mass  of  quarried  stone  cemented  into  a  solidity 
scarcely  less  than  that  of  the  original  rock  from 
whence  its  ashlar  had  been  hewn  with  such  heavy  toil, 
a  mountainous  fortress,  to  all  outward  seeming  im- 
pregnable. Upon  its  highest  plateau  towered  the 
mighty  cathedral,  fair  to  view  without  in  its  stately  ap- 
parel of  pure  white  stone,  and  all  glorious  within  by 

307 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

reason  of  the  numberless  gifts  showered  upon  it  by 
the  loving  hands  of  those  who  desired  thus  to  show 
their  gratitude  to  God. 

In  truth  it  was  a  goodly  fane.  Not  merely  because 
of  the  blazing  enrichments  of  gold  and  silver  and 
precious  stones  with  which  it  glowed  and  sparkled,  but 
because  of  the  many  signs  of  loyalty  and  truth  evi- 
denced in  the  sculptured  tombs  of  the  illustrious  dead. 
The  knights  who  kept  vigilant  watch  around  its  sacred 
walls  and  came  daily  to  worship  within  its  cool  aisles 
were  never  left  without  a  solemn  witness  to  the  fealty 
of  those  who  had  gone  before  them.  The  most  care- 
less among  them  could  not  help  being  impressed  by 
the  fact  that  here  in  the  midst  of  the  Great  Sea  had 
been  planted  an  outpost  of  Christendom  of  which  they 
were  the  custodians — a  fortress  of  the  utmost  value 
for  the  keeping  back  of  the  Paynim  hordes  who  bade 
fair  to  overwhelm  all  Christian  countries,  and  bring 
them  under  the  abhorrent  rule  of  Mahomed  the  Ac- 
cursed One. 

In  this  there  is  no  exaggeration.  If  there  be  one 
fact  more  clearly  established  than  any  other,  amid  the 
welter  of  misleading  rubbish  that  floods  the  world  to- 
day, it  is  this,  that  the  fearless  self-sacrifice  of  the 
knights  of  Malta,  buttressed  by  the  devotion  of  those 
over  whom  they  held  no  gentle  sway,  saved  Europe 
from  being  overrun  by  the  pitiless  Mussulman,  saved 
Europe  from  being  to-day  a  depraved,  debased,  and 
miserable  land,  wherein  all  the  horrors  of  Eastern 
Africa  would  have  their  full  and  awful  outcome. 

Raimondo  de  Homedes,  only  son  of  the  Grand 

308 


She  was  to  him  brightest  and  best  of  all  damsels. 


The  Great  Christmas  of  Gozo 

Master  of  that  name,  Juan  de  Homedes,  was  on  this 
most  momentous  Christmas  Eve  in  command  of  the 
Gozo  garrison.  The  general  feeling  was  one  of  se- 
curity. The  last  attack  of  the  infidel  in  1546  had  been 
repulsed  with  such  terrible  loss  to  the  invader  that  the 
high-spirited  garrison  could  not  help  coming  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  would  be  at  least  a  generation  be- 
fore any  such  attempt  would  again  be  made. 

Raimondo  de  Homedes,  then,  went  the  rounds  of 
his  great  command  in  the  citadel  of  Gozo  with  a  care- 
free heart.  His  thoughts  were  mainly  occupied  with 
the  question  of  how  soon  he  should  be  free  to  meet 
his  lady-love,  the  stately  daughter  of  Alfonso  de  Azzo- 
pardi,  chief  of  all  the  notables  in  Gozo.  She  was,  to 
him  at  least,  brightest,  best  of  all  the  damosels  whose 
charms  fired  the  palpitating  hearts  of  those  warriors 
of  the  Cross  who  were  holding  these  islands  for  the 
commonweal  of  Christian  Europe. 

While  he  thus  meditated,  receiving  the  replies  to 
his  perfunctory  challenges  of  the  sentries  on  guard 
with  an  car  that  hardly  conveyed  to  his  brain  the 
meaning  of  the  words,  there  came  running  to  him  a 
page,  a  lad  of  parts  who  was  an  especial  favourite. 
Breathless,  panting  with  excitement,  the  child  (he  was 
scarcely  more)  gasped  out,  "  Messer  Raimondo,  the 
sentinel  on  the  eastern  tower  says  that  since  you  passed 
his  guard-house  he  has  been  mightily  exercised  by  the 
appearance  of  some  black  masses  on  the  sea.  He 
knows  not  what  they  can  be,  but  he  fears  they  are 
galleys  and  that  they  can  be  coming  for  no  good  pur- 
pose. He  prays  you  to  return  and  look  for  yourself,  in 
a«  309 


Deep-Sea  Pliinderings 

case  there  should  be  any  mischief  intended  of  which 
we  have  had  no  warning  by  our  spies." 

Raimondo  Ustened,  with  a  concentration  of  all  his 
mental  faculties,  but  as  he  did  so  he  could  not  help  a 
contemptuous  smile  crinkling  his  features.  "  Just  an- 
other bad  dream  of  old  Gianelli's.  But  never  mind ; 
I  will  go  and  set  his  troubled  soul  at  rest." 

It  wanted  but  two  hours  of  midnight.  The  moon 
was  full  and  almost  in  the  meridian,  pouring  down 
through  the  cloudless  serene  a  flood  of  light  like 
molten  silver.  So  dazzling  was  the  radiance  that  when 
the  commandant  and  his  companion  stepped  forth 
upon  the  highest  plateau  of  all  into  its  full  glare,  their 
shadows  glided  by  their  sides  as  if  carved  in  solid 
ebony,  and  every  object  around  them  was  as  clearly 
visible  as  if  it  had  been  noonday.  With  a  quick  spring- 
ing step,  Raimondo  mounted  the  half-dozen  steps  of 
stone  leading  into  the  eastern  tower,  meeting  Gianelli's 
challenge  with  the  countersign  of  the  night,  "  Mary." 
Then  Raimondo  burst  impetuously  into  speech,  say- 
ing— 

"What  ails  thee,  Gianelli?  Surely  dreams  trouble 
thee ;  and  in  thy  nervous  anxiety  to  be  counted  most 
faithful  of  all  our  faithful  guards,  thou  hast  conjured 
up  a  band  of  spectres  to  torment  thyself  withal.  What 
hast  thou  seen  and  where  ?  " 

For  all  answer  Gianelli  bowed  low,  and,  straighten- 
ing himself  immediately,  stretched  out  his  long  left 
arm  towards  the  west  in  the  direction  of  Tunis.  And 
there,  in  that  blazing  tract  of  silvern  light  shed  upon 
the  darkling  sea  by  the  moon,  was  distinctly  to  be  seen 

310 


The  Great  Christmas  of  Gozo 

a  row  of  objects  that  could  be  nothing  else  but  gal- 
leys, although  it  was  evident  that  they  were  of  the 
smallest  size. 

An  instantaneous  change  took  place  in  the  attitude 
of  the  young  commandant.  "  By  the  Holy  Sepulchre," 
he  muttered,  '*  thou  art  right,  Gianelli,  and  I  did  thee 
grievous  wrong  to  ridicule  thy  well-known  fidelity  and 
watchfulness." 

"  Say  no  more  about  it,  my  lord ;  I  love  thee  far  too 
well  to  be  over-pained  by  what  I  know  is  but  the  natu- 
ral free  speech  of  a  high-spirited  youth.  But  what 
thinkest  thou,  my  lord?  Is  it  possible  that  some  of 
our  own  galleys  may  be  returning  from  a  secret  raid 
upon  the  infidel  strongholds  ?  " 

"  No,  Gianelli,  it  is  not ;  for  my  latest  information, 
coming  yesterday  morning,  was  to  the  effect  that  all 
the  smaller  galleys  had  been  recalled,  and  were  safe- 
ly housed  in  the  Grand  Harbour.  Their  crews  have 
been  given  leave  for  the  great  festival,  only  the  slaves 
remaining  by  them  under  guard.  No;  this  must 
be  a  matter  of  far  more  serious  import.  Sound 
the  summons  to  arms  and  light  the  beacon  while 
I  haste  to  the  Council  Chamber.  Luigi,  my  lad, 
run  thou  to  the  church  and  pass  the  word  for  all 
my  officers  to  leave  their  vigil  around  the  altars  at 
once." 

Thus  saying,  Raimondo  hastened  away,  noting  as 
he  did  so,  with  grim  satisfaction,  the  leaping  flames 
from  the  summit  of  the  tower  being  answered  by 
twinkling  points  of  light  all  over  the  black  masses  of 
rock  that  lay  to  the  eastward,  showing  that  already  the 

3" 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

alarm  had  been  sounded  in  every  fortress  from  Rabato 
10  St.  Elmo. 

Within  the  great  church  were  gathered  most  of  the 
garrison  not  on  guard.  All  the  gorgeous  details  with 
which  the  church  loves  to  welcome  in  the  Day  of 
days  had  been  lovingly  attended  to.  There  was  the 
stable,  the  manger,  the  waiting  cattle,  the  worshipping 
Eastern  kings.  Mary,  in  her  mighty  meekness, 
cradled  her  Divine  infant  upon  her  virgin  bosom ; 
Joseph,  careworn  and  travel-stained,  looked  upon  her 
with  a  solemn  wonder  in  his  honest  eyes ;  while  around 
and  above  jewels  and  gold  and  silver  flashed  in  all 
their  splendour  by  the  light  of  a  thousand  tall  candles. 
A  thin  blue  haze  of  incense  gave  all  things  an  air  of 
mystery,  and  the  perfume  laid  upon  the  senses  a 
strange  exaltation. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  hush,  a  bated  breathing  by 
all,  as  the  archbishop,  in  his  marvellous  vesture,  arose 
from  his  knees  and  spoke. 

"  My  brethren,  from  the  preparation  for  the  advent 
of  the  day  whereon  we  celebrate  the  human  birth  of 
our  Divine  Redeemer,  ye  are  called  to  do  battle  with 
His  most  terrible  foes.  My  lord  the  Commandant  of 
Gozo  informs  me  that  the  galleys  of  the  infidel  are 
approaching  us,  in  the  hope,  he  supposes,  of  finding 
us  all  so  enwrapped  in  our  devotions  that  he  will 
have  of  us  an  easy  prey.  My  children,  let  him  learn 
that  we  watch  as  well  as  pray.  Show  him  once  again 
that  we  count  it  our  most  precious  privilege  to  pour 
out  our  blood  in  defence  of  our  most  Holy  Faith,  that 
we  look  upon  our  dying  in  this  high  endeavour  to  pro- 

312 


The  Great  Christmas  of  Gozo 

tect  Christendom  from  the  infidel  as  the  most  glorious 
fate  that  could  befall  us.  Receive  at  my  hands  the 
blessing  of  the  Most  High.  Go  forth,  each  of  you, 
fully  equipped,  not  merely  with  material  armour,  but 
with  the  knowledge  that  upon  you  rests  the  special 
benevolence  of  God  the  Son,  under  whose  banner  you 
fight." 

All  heads  bowed  for  an  instant  as  the  solemn  bene- 
diction was  spoken,  then  with  a  clanging  of  armour 
and  a  clashing  of  swords  the  great  assembly  sprang  to 
their  feet  and  departed  each  to  his  post  of  honour  and 
utmost  danger. 

It  was  high  time.  Already  those  snaky  galleys 
laden  with  men  of  the  most  bloodthirsty  type,  fired 
with  fanaticism  and  lured  by  the  promises  of  an  end- 
less paradise  of  sensual  delight,  had  crept  into  the 
many  little  sheltered  bays  of  the  island,  and  were  vom- 
iting forth  their  terrible  crews. 

Already  a  quick  ear  might  catch  the  varied  cries 
in  strange  tongues  floating  upward  through  the  silken 
smoothness  of  the  night  air,  predominant  over  them 
all  the  oft-reiterated  shout  of  '*  Allah !  "  Already  the 
keen-sighted  watchers  could  discern  dark-moving 
masses  of  men,  from  the  midst  of  w^hich  came  an  occa- 
sional silvery  gleam  as  the  molten  flood  of  moon- 
light touched  a  spear-tip  or  sword-blade. 

Onward  they  came,  marvelling  doubtless  at  the 
ease  with  which  they  had  been  permitted  thus  to  as- 
semble upon  the  enemy's  territory,  and  for  the  most 
part  utterly  unconscious  of  the  reception  that  awaited 
them  at  the  goal  of  their  hot  desire.    Suddenly  there 

313 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

arose  from  the  town  beneath  the  citadel  walls  a  long- 
drawn  cry  of  anguish.  The  careless  ones  who  had 
not  fled  for  shelter  to  the  common  refuge  had  been 
found  by  the  invader,  and  were  being  ruthlessly 
slaughtered.  Their  cries  made  bearded  lips  tighten, 
nervous  hands  grasp  more  firmly  their  weapons,  and 
all  hearts  above  to  beat  higher  and  more  resolute  to 
repay  these  murderers  in  full  tale  when  the  opportunity 
so  to  do  should  arrive. 

Out  from  the  highest  belfry  of  the  cathedral  pealed 
the  twelve  strokes  of  the  midnight  hour,  and  before 
their  sound  had  died  away  there  uprose  from  the 
citadel  a  mighty  chorus  of  welcome  to  Christmas  Day 
• — Gloria  in  excelsis  Deo. 

Before  it  had  ended  the  first  of  the  invaders  had 
reached  the  walls,  and,  mad  with  fanatic  fury  and  lust 
of  blood,  were  swarming  like  ants  up  its  steep  sides, 
clinging  with  desperate  tenacity  to  every  plant  and 
projection  that  afiforded  the  slightest  foot  or  hand  hold. 
Regardless  of  the  avalanche  of  stones  hurtling  down 
upon  them,  unheeding  the  dreadful  rain  of  boiling  lead 
and  scalding  water,  they  came  indomitably  on.  Their 
numbers  seemed  incalculable,  their  courage,  buttressed 
by  unreasoning  faith,  invincible.  But  they  were  met 
at  every  point  by  men  whose  hearts  were  as  well  forti- 
fied as  their  own,  and  who  possessed,  besides  the  ines- 
timable advantage  of  discipline  and  long  training  in 
warlike  matters,  the  invaluable  position  of  being  de- 
fenders. 

Downwards  by  hundreds  the  invaders  were  hurled, 
their  spurting  blood  staining  the  pure  whiteness  of 

314 


The  Great  Christmas  of  Gozo 

the  walls  with  long  black-red  smears,  which  the  shud- 
dering moonlight  revealed  in  all  their  ghastliness. 
Already  the  reinforcements  were  compelled  to  mount 
upon  mounds  of  dead  to  get  their  first  hold ;  the  street 
of  the  little  town,  but  lately  so  peaceful,  was  defiled 
by  heaps  upon  heaps  of  frightfully  mangled  corpses, 
representatives  of  all  the  savage  tribes  of  Northern 
Africa.  "  For  Mary  and  her  Son  " — the  war-cry  of 
the  night — rang  out  clearly  and  defiantly,  soaring  high 
above  the  shrill  yells  of  the  savages  and  the  monoto- 
nous howl  of  "  Allahhu !  " 

So  far  all  seemed  to  have  gone  well,  until  suddenly 
a  shudder  ran  through  the  whole  garrison  as  the  news 
spread  that  by  the  treachery  of  a  vile  renegade  the 
secret  subterranean  passage  into  the  citadel  from  a 
point  near  the  shore  had  been  laid  open,  and  that  al- 
ready a  torrent  of  the  infidels  were  pouring  through  it. 

The  commandant,  who  had  approved  himself  on 
this  occasion  a  man  of  the  very  highest  ability  and 
courage,  no  sooner  heard  this  awful  news  than,  sum- 
moning around  him  his  most  trusted  knights,  he  placed 
himself  at  their  head  and  hurried  to  the  spot.  And  the 
first  sight  that  met  his  eyes  was  the  beautiful  form 
of  her  he  loved  borne  high  upon  the  shoulders  of  a 
gigantic  heathen  in  black  armour  who,  apparently  feel- 
ing her  weight  not  at  all,  was  brandishing  a  huge 
scimitar  in  his  right  hand,  and  yelling  words  of  en- 
couragement in  some  guttural  Eastern  tongue  to  his 
followers. 

Forgetful  of  all  else,  his  brain  on  fire  at  the  sight, 
Raimondo  sprang  ahead  of  his  men,  his  keen  blade 

315 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

whirling  round  his  head.  By  the  sheer  fury  of  his 
onslaught  he  burst  through  the  grim  ranks  of  the 
heathen,  and  smiting  with  all  his  vigour  at  the  head 
of  the  captor  of  his  beloved  one,  slew,  not  his  foe,  alas ! 
but  her  for  whom  he  would  gladly  have  given  his  life. 
The  terrible  blow  cleft  her  fair  body  almost  in  twain, 
as  the  heathen  giant  held  her  before  himself  shieldwise 
to  meet  it.  The  distracted  commandant's  first  impulse 
was  to  fling  himself  upon  that  beloved  corpse  and  ac- 
company her  spirit  to  heaven,  but  that  thought  was 
conquered  by  the  knowledge  of  his  high  responsibil- 
ities. And  with  a  shout  of  "  Mary  "  he  recovered  his 
blade,  sprang  at  the  foul  Paynim's  throat,  and  cleft 
him  in  sunder  through  gorget  and  vant  brace. 

All  the  followers  of  the  young  knight  were  fired 
in  like  manner,  and  like  avenging  angels  before  whom 
no  mere  flesh  and  blood  could  possibly  stand  for  a  mo- 
ment, they  hewed  their  gory  way  through  the  masses 
of  the  heathen,  halting  not  until  the  last  of  their  foes 
had  gasped  out  into  the  darkness  of  eternal  night  his 
guilty  soul. 

And  as  it  was  in  the  heart  of  the  citadel,  so  it  had 
been  on  the  battlements,  not  one  heathen  had  sur- 
vived his  footing  upon  those  sacred  walls.  And  as  it 
appeared  that  the  whole  force  had  devoted  themselves 
to  death  in  default  of  victory  there  was  not  one  left 
alive. 

So  that  the  great  fight  ceased  with  the  death  of 
the  last  invader,  and  the  blessed  sun  rose  upon  a 
scene  of  carnage  such  as  even  these  blood-stained 
islands  had  never  before  witnessed.     But  in  the  hour 

316 


The  Great  Christmas  of  Gozo 

of  victory  there  arose  a  great  cry.  Raimondo  the  gal- 
lant commandant  was  missing.  His  devoted  friends 
rushed  hither  and  thither  in  the  pearly  light  of  the 
new  day,  seeking  him  where  the  heaps  of  dead  lay 
thickest,  but  for  a  long  time  their  search  was  in  vain. 
At  last  he  was  found  before  the  manger  in  the  church, 
lying  with  face  hidden  on  the  bosom  of  his  beloved, 
whose  cold  mangled  body  was  clutched  in  an  unreleas- 
able  embrace.  He  was  to  all  human  sight  unwounded, 
but  even  the  most  ignorant  and  callous  of  his  com- 
mand knew  that  he  had  died  of  a  broken  heart. 

Yet  it  must  be  believed  that  he  went  gladly  to  join 
his  beloved  one,  knowing  full  well  that  as  a  gallant 
soldier  of  the  Cross  he  had  nobly  sustained  his  high 
part,  and  only  when  his  duty  was  done  had  he  per- 
mitted himself  to  sink  into  eternal  rest  in  the  arms  of 
her  whom  he  had  so  fondly  loved. 


317 


DEEP-SEA   FISH 

Among  shore-dwellers  generally  there  obtains  an 
idea  that  the  ocean,  except  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of 
land,  is  an  awful  solitude,  its  vast  emptiness  closely 
"akin  to  the  spaces  above.  But  while  admitting  fully 
that  there  is  little  room  for  wonder  at  such  a  specula- 
tive opinion,  it  must  be  said  that  nothing  could  well 
be  farther  from  the  truth.  Indeed,  we  may  even  go 
beyond  that  statement,  and  declare  that  the  fruitful 
earth,  with  its  unimaginable  variety  and  innumerable 
hosts  of  living  things,  is,  when  compared  to  the  dense- 
ly populated  world  of  waters,  but  a  sparsely  peopled 
desert.  A  little  knowledge  of  the  conditions  existing 
at  great  depths,  may  well  make  us  doubt  whether  any 
forms  of  life  exist  able  to  endure  the  incalculable  pres- 
sure of  the  superincumbent  sea ;  but  leaving  all  the 
tremendous  area  of  the  ocean  bed  below  200  fathoms 
out  of  the  question,  there  still  remains  ample  room  and 
verge  enough  for  the  justification  of  the  statement  just 
made. 

Nothing  has  ever  excited  the  wonder  and  admira- 
tion of  naturalists  more  than  this  prodigious  popula- 
tion of  the  sea — these  unthinkable  myriads  of  hungry 
things  which  are  shut  up  to  the  necessity  of  preying 
upon  each  other  since  other  forms  of  food  do  not  exist. 

319 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

The  mind  recoils  dismayed  from  a  contemplation  of 
their  countlessness,  as  it  does  from  the  thought  of 
timelessness  or  the  extent  of  the  stellar  spaces,  shrink- 
ingly  admitting  its  limitations  and  seeking  relief  in 
some  subject  that  is  within  its  grasp.  But  without 
touching  upon  the  lower  forms  of  life  peopling  the  sea, 
and  so  escaping  the  burden  of  thought  which  the 
slightest  consideration  of  their  myriads  entail,  it  is 
possible  to  note,  without  weariness,  how,  all  over  the 
waste  spaces  of  a  remote  and  unhearing  ocean,  fish  of 
noble  proportions  and  varying  degrees  of  edibility  dis* 
port  themselves,  breeding  none  know  where,  and  re- 
vealing their  beauties  to  the  passing  seafarer  as  they 
gather  companionably  around  his  solitary  keel.  Ex- 
cluding all  the  varied  species  of  mammals  that  form 
such  an  immense  portion  of  the  sea-folk,  it  may 
roughly  be  said  that  the  majority  of  deep-sea  fish  be- 
long to  the  mackerel  family,  or  Scombridce.  They  pos- 
sess, in  an  exaggerated  form,  all  the  characteristics 
of  that  well-known  edible  fish  that  occasionally 
gluts  our  markets  and  gladdens  the  hearts  of  our  fish- 
ermen. 

One  of  the  least  numerous,  but  from  his  size  and 
prowess  probably  the  monarch  of  all  sea  fish,  is  the 
sword-fish,  Xiphias.  This  elegant  fish  attains  an  enor- 
mous size,  specimens  having  been  caught  weighing 
over  a  quarter  of  a  ton ;  but  owing  to  the  incompa- 
rable grace  of  its  form,  its  speed  and  agility  are  beyond 
belief.  It  is  often — in  fact,  generally — confounded 
with  the  "  saw-fish,"  a  species  of  shark ;  the  principal 
reason  of  this  confusion  being  the  great  number  of 

320 


Deep-Sea  Fish 


"  saws  "  or  beaks  of  the  latter,  which  are  to  be  found 
in  homes  about  the  country.  Yet  between  the  sword 
of  the  Xiphias  and  the  "  saw  "  of  the  Pristiophorida 
there  is  about  as  much  similarity  as  there  is  between 
the  assegai  of  a  Zulu  and  the  waddy  of  a  black-fellow. 
The  one  weapon  is  a  slender,  finely  pointed  shaft  of 
the  hardest  bone,  an  extended  process  of  the  skull, 
about  two  feet  long  in  a  large  specimen.  Impelled  by 
the  astounding  vigour  of  the  lithe  monster  behind 
it,  this  tremendous  weapon  has  been  proved  capable 
of  penetrating  the  massive  oaken  timbers  of  a  ship,  and 
a  specimen  may  be  seen  in  the  Museum  of  Natural 
History  at  South  Kensington,  at  this  present  time, 
transfixing  a  section  of  ship's  timber  several  inches  in 
thickness.  The  "  saw,"  on  the  other  hand,  is,  like  all 
the  rest  of  a  shark's  skeleton,  composed  of  cartilage, 
besides  being  terminated  at  the  tip  by  a  broad,  almost 
snout-like  end.  Unlike  the  round  lance  of  the  sword- 
fish,  the  *'  saw  "  has  a  flat  blade  set  on  both  sides  with 
sharp  teeth  with  considerable  gaps  between  them.  As 
its  name  and  shape  would  imply,  it  is  used  saw-wise, 
principally  for  disembowelling  fish,  for  upon  such  soft 
food  the  saw-fish  is  compelled  to  feed  owing  to  the 
shape  of  his  mouth  and  the  insignificance  of  his  teeth. 
Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  apart  from  the  radical  differ- 
ences between  the  two  creatures,  nothing  being  really 
in  common  between  them,  except  that  they  are  both 
fish,  there  is  really  no  comparison  possible  between 
"  saw  "  and  "  sword."  Fortunately  for  the  less  warlike 
inhabitants  of  the  deep  sea,  sword-fish  are  not  numer- 
ous, there  are  none  to  cope  with  them  or  keep  their 

321 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

numbers  down  if  they  were  prolific.  Sometimes — 
strange  companionship — they  join  forces  with  the 
killer  whale  and  the  thresher  shark  in  an  attack 
upon  one  of  the  larger  whales,  only  avoiding  in- 
stinctively that  monarch  of  the  boundless  main,  the 
cachalot. 

Next  in  size  and  importance  among  deep-sea  fish, 
excluding  sharks,  about  which  I  have  said  so  much 
elsewhere  that  I  do  not  propose  dealing  with  them 
here,  is  the  albacore,  tunny  or  tuiia,  all  of  which  are 
sub-varieties  of,  or  local  names  for  the  same  huge 
mackerel.  They  abound  in  every  tropical  sea,  and  are 
also  found  in  certain  favourable  waters,  such  as  the 
Mediterranean  and  Pacific  coast  of  America.  Like  the 
sword-fish  their  habits  of  breeding  are  unknown,  since 
they  have  their  home  in  the  solitudes  of  the  ocean. 
But  they  are  one  of  the  fish  most  frequently  met  with 
by  seafarers,  as,  like  several  others  of  the  same  great 
family,  they  are  fond  of  following  a  ship.  A  sailing 
ship  that  is,  for  the  throb  of  the  propeller,  apart  from 
the  speed  of  the  vessel,  is  effectual  in  preventing  their 
attendance  upon  steamers,  so  that  passengers  by 
steamships  have  few  opportunities  of  observing  them. 
But  in  sailing  vessels,  gliding  placidly  along  under  the 
easy  pressure  of  gentle  breezes,  or  lying  quietly  wait- 
ing for  the  friendly  wind,  ample  scope  is  given  for 
study  of  their  every-day  life.  Very  occasionally  too, 
some  seaman,  more  skilful  or  enterprising  than  his 
fellows,  will  succeed  in  catching  one  by  trolling  a  piece 
of  white  rag  or  a  polished  spoon  with  a  powerful  hook 
attached.    Yet  such  is  the  vigour  and  so  great  is  the 

322 


Deep-Sea  Fish 


size  of  these  huge  mackerel,  some  attaining  a  length 
of  six  feet  and  a  weight  of  five  hundred  pounds,  that 
their  capture  from  a  ship  is  infrequent. 

In  size,  beauty,  and  importance,  the  "  dolphin " 
easily  claims  the  next  place  to  the  albacore.  But  an 
unaccountable  confusion  has  gathered  around  this 
splendid  fish  on  account  of  his  popular  name.  The 
dolphin  of  mythological  sculpture  bears  no  resem- 
blance either  to  the  popularly  named  dolphin  of  the 
seaman  and  the  poets,  or  the  scientifically  named  dol- 
phin of  the  natural  histories,  which  is  a  mammal,  and 
identical  with  the  porpoise.  One  thing  is  certain,  that 
no  sailor  will  ever  speak  of  the  porpoise  as  a  dolphin, 
or  call  Coryphcna  hippuris  anything  else.  Of  this  lovely 
denizen  of  the  deep  sea,  it  is  cfifficult  to  speak  soberly. 
Even  the  dullest  of  men  wax  enthusiastic  over  its 
glories,  feeling  sure  that  none  of  all  beautiful  created 
things  can  approach  it  for  splendour  of  array.  I  have 
often  tried  to  distinguish  its  different  hues,  watching 
it  long  and  earnestly  as  it  basked  alongside  in  the 
limpid  blue  environment  of  its  home.  But  my  efforts 
have  always  been  in  vain,  since  every  turn  of  its  ele- 
gant form  revealed  some  new  combination  of  dazzling 
tints  blending  and  brightening  in  such  radiant  love- 
liness that  any  classification  of  their  shades  was  im- 
possible. Then  a  swift  wave  of  the  wide  forked  tail- 
fin  would  send  the  lithe  body  all  a-quiver  in  a  new 
direction,  where,  catching  a  stray  sunbeam  it  would 
blaze  like  burnished  silver  reflecting  the  golden 
gleam,  and  the  overtaxed  eye  must  needs  turn  away 
for  relief.     Then   suddenly  the   marvellous   creature 

323 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

would  spring  into  activity,  launching  itself  in  long 
vibrant  leaps  through  the  air  after  its  prey,  a  fleeting 
school  of  flying  fish,  that  with  all  their  winged  speed 
could  not  escape  the  lethal  jaws  of  their  splendid  pur- 
suer. Having  read  of  the  wondrously  changing  col- 
ours of  a  dying  dolphin  I  watched  with  great  eager- 
ness the  first  one  that  ever  I  saw  caught.  Great  was 
my  disappointment  and  resentment  against  those  who 
had  perpetrated  and  perpetuated  such  a  fable.  Com- 
pared with  the  glory  of  the  living  creature,  the  fading 
hues  of  its  vesture  when  dying  were  as  lead  is  to 
gold.  Only  by  most  careful  watching  was  it  possible 
to  distinguish  the  changing  colour  schemes,  faint  and 
dim,  as  if  with  departing  vitality  they  too  were  com- 
pelled to  fade  and  die  away  into  darkness.  On  the 
utilitarian  side  too  the  dolphin  is  beloved  by  the  sailor, 
for  its  flesh  is  whiter  and  more  sapid  than  that  of  any 
other  deep-sea  fish  except  the  flying  fish,  which  are 
too  small  and  too  infrequently  got  hold  of  on  board 
ship  to  be  taken  much  account  of  for  food.  Yet,  in 
spite  of  its  wondrous  speed,  the  dolphin,  when  con- 
gregated in  considerable  numbers,  often  falls  a  prey 
to  the  giant  albacore,  which  hurls  itself  into  their 
midst,  clashing  its  great  jaws  and  destroying  many 
more  than  it  devours. 

Commonest  of  all  deep-water  fish,  but  only  found 
in  the  warm  waters  of  the  tropical  seas  or  fairly  close 
to  their  northern  or  southern  limits  is  the  bonito, 
another  member  of  the  mackerel  family,  but  much 
inferior  in  size  to  the  albacore.  "  Bonito  "  is  a  Span- 
ish diminutive  equivalent,  to  beautiful,  and  beautiful 

324 


Deep-Sea  Fish 


the  bonito  certainly  is,  although  compared  with  the 
dazzling  glory  of  the  dolphin  it  looks  quite  homely. 
It  is  a  most  sociable  fish,  keeping  company  with  a 
slow-moving  sailing  ship  for  days  together,  and  quite 
easily  caught  with  a  hook  to  which  a  morsel  of  white 
rag  is  fastened  to  simulate  a  flying  fish.  For  its  size 
— the  largest  I  have  ever  seen  being  less  than  thirty 
pounds  weight — its  strength  is  incredible,  as  is  also 
the  quantity  of  warm  blood  it  contains.  On  account 
of  these  two  characteristics,  it  is  usual  when  fishing 
for  bonito  off  the  end  of  the  jibboom  to  take  out  a 
sack  and  secure  it  to  the  jib-gfuys  with  its  mouth 
gaping  wide  so  that  the  newly  caught  fish  may  be 
promptly  dropped  therein  to  kick  and  bleed  in  safety 
and  cleanliness.  My  first  bonito  entailed  upon  me 
considerable  discomfort.  I  was  a  lad  of  fourteen,  and 
had  stolen  out  unobserved  to  fish  with  the  mate's  line, 
which  he  had  left  coiled  on  the  boom.  I  hooked  a 
large  fish  which,  after  a  struggle,  I  succeeded  in  haul- 
ing up  until  I  embraced  him  tightly  with  both  arms. 
His  vibrations  actually  shook  the  ship,  and  they  con- 
tinued until  my  whole  body  was  quite  benumbed,  and 
I  could  not  feel  that  a  large  patch  of  skin  was  chafed 
oflF  my  breast  where  I  hugged  my  prize  to  me.  And 
not  only  was  I  literally  drenched  with  the  fish's  blood, 
but  the  flying  jib,  which  happened  to  be  furled  on  the 
boom,  was  in  a  truly  shocking  condition  likewise. 
Nevertheless  I  rejoice  to  think  that  I  held  on  to  my 
fish  and  successfully  bore  him  inboard  to  the  cook, 
although  I  shook  so  with  excitement  and  fatigue  that 
I  could  scarcely  keep  my  feet.  Nor  was  my  triumph 
aa  325 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

much  discounted  by  the  complete  rope's-ending  I  got 
the  same  evening,  when  upon  hoisting  the  jib,  its 
filthy  condition  was  made  manifest,  and  at  once  right- 
ly attributed  to  me.  The  flesh  of  the  bonito  is  coarse 
and  dark,  tough,  and  with  little  flavour.  But  still  it 
comes  as  a  welcome  change  to  the  worse  than  pauper 
dietary  served  out  to  crews  of  sailing  ships  generally, 
while  the  ease  with  which  the  fish  may  be  caught,  and 
the  frequency  of  its  companionship  make  it  one  of  the 
most  appreciated  by  seamen  of  all  the  denizens  of  the 
deep  sea.  One  other  virtue  it  possesses  which  makes 
it  even  more  of  a  favourite  than  the  dolphin,  in  spite 
of  all  the  latter's  superior  palatability — it  is  never  pois- 
onous, unless  after  exposure  to  the  rays  of  the  moon. 
Dolphin  have  often  been  known  to  inflict  severe  suf- 
fering upon  those  eating  their  flesh,  and  no  one  who 
has  ever  experienced  the  enormously  swollen  head 
and  agonizing  pain'  consequent  upon  a  meal  off  a 
poisonous  dolphin  is  ever  likely  to^ think  even  of  such 
a  meal  again  without  a  shudder. 

Another  exceedingly  pretty  fish  found  in  all  deep 
tropical  waters  is  the  skip-jack.  Smaller  than  the 
average  bonito,  yet  in  the  details  of  its  form  closely 
resembling  the  great  albacore,  this  elegant  fish  is  less 
sociable  than  any  of  those  mentioned  in  the  preceding 
lines.  Therefore,  it  is  seldom  caught,  although  in 
calm  weather  in  the  doldrums  thousands  may  often 
be  seen  making  the  short  vertical  leaps  into  the  air 
from  which  peculiar  evolution  they  derive  their  trivial 
name.  Both  the  bonito  and  the  skip-jack  are  subject 
to  being  devoured  by  the  albacore,  whose  voracity, 

326 


Deep-Sea  Fish 


swiftness,  and  size  make  him  the  terror  of  all  his 
smaller  congeners. 

Occasionally  after  a  few  days'  calm  some  delicate 
little  fish,  also  belonging  to  the  mackerel  tribe — a 
species  of  caranx — will  be  seen  huddling  timorously 
around  the  rudder  of  a  ship,  as  if  in  momentary  dread 
of  being  devoured,  a  dread  which  is  exceedingly  well 
founded.  The  wonder  is  how  any  of  them  escape  the 
ravenous  jaws  of  the  larger  fish  since  they  must  find 
it  well-nigh  impossible  to  get  away  from  such  pur- 
suers. They  may  be  easily  caught  by  a  fine  line  and 
hook,  and  are  very  dainty  eating.  So,  too,  with  the 
lovely  little  caranx  familiar  to  all  readers  as  the  pilot 
fish.  What  peculiar  instinct  impels  this  beautiful  tiny 
wanderer  to  attach  himself  to  a  shark  is  one  of  the 
mysteries  of  natural  history,  and  the  subject  of  much 
ignorant  incredulity  on  the  part  of  those  who  are 
often  found  ready  to  believe  some  of  the  most  absurd 
travellers'  yarns.  But  the  pilot  fish  and  its  habits  de- 
serves a  whole  paper  to  itself — it  is  far  too  interesting 
a  subject  to  be  dealt  with  in  the  brief  space  now  re- 
maining. This,  too,  must  be  said  of  the  flying-fish, 
one  of  the  most  wonderful  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  the 
deep  seas,  yet  not  so  important  to  the  seaman  from 
a  utilitarian  point  of  view,  since  the  occasional  strag- 
glers that  do  fly  on  board  ship  in  their  blind  haste  to 
escape  from  their  countless  foes  beneath,  usually  fall 
to  the  lot  of  the  ship's  cat.  Pussy  is  swift  to  learn 
that  the  sharp  "  smack  "  against  the  bulwarks  at  night, 
followed  by  a  rapid  rattling  flutter  means  a  most  de- 
licious meal  for  her,  and  smart  indeed  must  be  the 

327 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

sailor  who  finds  the  hapless  fish  before  pussy  has  com- 
menced her  banquet. 

One  more  important  member  of  the  true  ocean 
fish  must  be  mentioned,  although  it  also  frequents 
many  shores,  and  is  regularly  caught  for  market  on 
widely  separated  coasts.  It  is  the  barracouta  or  sea- 
pike,  a  large  fish  of  delicious  flavour,  much  resem- 
bling the  hake  of  our  own  southern  coasts.  As  I  have 
caught  this  voracious  fish  all  over  the  Indian  Ocean, 
I  have  no  hesitation  at  including  it  among  deep-sea 
fish,  although  perhaps  many  well-informed  seafarers 
would  disagree  with  me.  But  if  any  seaman,  still  pur- 
suing his  vocation,  doubts  my  statement,  let  him  on 
his  next  East  Indian  voyage  keep  a  line  towing  astern 
with  a  shred  of  crimson  bunting  hiding  a  stout  hook 
at  its  end,  as  soon  as  the  ship  hauls  to  the  nor'ard 
after  rounding  the  Cape.  And  I  can  assure  him  that 
he  will  have  several  tasty  messes  of  fish  before  she 
crosses  the  Line. 


328 


A    MEDITERRANEAN    MORNING 

From  my  lofty  roof-top  here,  in  the  highest  part 
of  Valetta,  it  is  possible  to  take  in  at  one  sweeping 
glance  a  panorama  that  can  hardly  be  surpassed  for 
beauty  and  interest. 

Intensely  blue,  the  placid  sea  curdles  around  the 
rock  bases  of  this  wonderful  little  island  as  if  it  loved 
them.  There  are  no  rude  breakers,  no  thundering, 
earth-shaking  on-rushings  of  snowy-crested  waves, 
leaping  at  the  point  of  impact  into  filmy  columns 
of  spray. 

Overhead  the  violet,  star-sprinkled  splendours  of 
the  night  are  just  beginning  to  throb  with  returning 
light.  One  cannot  say  that  the  beams  are  definite, 
rather  it  is  a  palpitating  glow  that  is  just  commencing 
to  permeate  the  whole  solemnity  of  the  dome  above, 
as  does  the  first  impulse  of  returning  joy  relax  the 
lines  of  a  saddened  face.  Far  to  the  north  may  be 
seen  a  tiny  cluster  of  fleecy  cloudlets  nestling  together 
as  if  timid  and  lonely  in  that  vast  expanse  of  clear 
sky.  But  as  the  coming  day  touches  them  they  put 
on  garments  of  glory  and  beauty.  Infinite  gradations 
of  colour,  all  tender,  melt  into  one  another  upon  their 
billowy  surfaces  until  they  spread  and  brighten,  in- 
vesting all  their  quadrant  of  the  heavens  with  the 
likeness  of  the  Gardens  of  Paradise. 

329 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

At  my  feet  lie  the  mighty  edifices  of  stone  that 
have,  by  the  patient  unending  labour  of  this  busy 
people,  grown  up  through  past  ages,  until  now  the 
mind  reels  in  the  attempt  to  sum  up  the  account  of 
that  labour.  A  sea  of  white  roofs,  punctuated  here 
and  there  with  the  dome  and  twin  steeples  of  a  church, 
the  only  breaks  in  the  universal  fashion  of  roof  archi- 
tecture. Away  beneath,  the  white,  clean  streets — so 
strangely  silent  that  the  far-off  tinkle  of  a  goat-bell 
on  the  neck  of  some  incoming  band  of  milk-bearers 
strikes  sharply  athwart  the  pellucid  atmosphere,  like 
the  fall  of  a  piece  of  broken  glass  on  to  the  pave- 
ment below.  A  few  dim  figures,  recumbent  upon 
the  wide  piazza  of  the  Opera  House,  stir  uneasily  as 
the  new  light  reaches  them,  and  gape,  and  stretch, 
and  fumble  for  cigarettes.  A  hurried,  furtive-looking 
labourer  glides  past,  his  bare  feet  arousing  no  echo, 
but  making  him  pass  like  a  ghost.  And  then,  from 
the  direction  of  the  Auberge  de  Castile,  comes  a  sol- 
emn sound  of  music. 

Its  first  faint  strains  rise  upon  the  sweet  morning 
calm  like  some  lovely  suggestion  of  prayer,  but  they 
are  accompanied  by  an  indefinite  pulsation  as  of  a 
beating  at  the  walls  of  one's  heart.  More  and  more 
distinct  the  strains  arise  until  recognizable  as  Chopin's 
"  Marche  Funebre,"  and  suddenly  in  the  distance  may 
be  discerned,  turning  into  the  Strada  Mezzodi,  row 
after  row  of  khaki-clad  figures  moving,  oh,  so  slowly. 
Deadened  and  dull  the  drum-beats  fall,  more  and 
more  insistent  wails  that  heart-rending  music,  and 
close  in  its  rear  appears  the  only  spot  of  colour  in  the 

330 


A  Mediterranean   Morning 

sad  ranks,  the  brilliant  folds  of  the  Union  Jack,  hiding 
that  small  oblong  coflfer  which  holds  all  that  was  mor- 
tal of  Private  No. .    Perhaps  in  life  he  was  rather 

an  insignificant  unit  of  his  regiment,  at  times  a  trou- 
blesome one,  familiar  with  "  pack-drill,"  "  CB.,"  and 
"  clink,"  but  now  he  has  been  brevetted,  for  a  fleeting 
hour  his  fast-decaying  remains  are  greeted  with  al- 
most Royal  honours. 

Nearer  and  nearer  creeps  the  solemn  and  stately 
procession,  so  slowly  that  the  strain  becomes  intol- 
erable. How  do  his  comrades  bear  it?  We  who 
knew  him  not  at  all  find  ourselves  choking,  gasping 
in  sympathy.  While  that  silent  escort  is  filing  past 
we  have  traced  his  history,  as  it  might  be,  his  baby- 
hood in  some  fair  British  village  far  away,  his  school- 
days, his  pranks,  his  mother's  pride.  Then  his  aspira- 
tions, what  he  would  do  when  he  was  a  man.  Or 
perhaps  he  came  from  the  slums  of  a  great  town, 
where,  neglected,  unwanted,  he  wallowed  in  the  gut- 
ters, living  like  the  sparrows,  but  less  easily,  and  only 
surviving  the  rough  treatment  by  dint  of  a  harder 
grip  of  life  than  so  many  of  his  fellows.  He  knew 
no  love,  was  coarse  of  speech,  g^ven  to  much  drink 
and  little  repentance.  But  who  thinks  of  that  now? 
He  is  our  dear  brother  departed,  and  his  comrades 
follow  him  home,  for  the  time  at  least  solemnized 
at  the  presence  among  them  of  that  awful  power  be- 
fore whom  all  heads  must  bow. 

Now,  the  so  lately  slumbering  street  has  filled. 
Swarthy  Maltese,  Sicilians,  Indians,  men  of  all  occu- 
pations, and  of  none,   stand   with   bared   heads  and 

331 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

downcast  faces  as  the  King  goes  by.  Oh  that  they 
would  hasten  on!  But  no.  As  if  the  procession 
would  never  end,  it  files  through  the  Porta  Reale,  and 
at  last  is  lost  to  view,  although  for  long  afterwards 
those  muffled  drums  still  beat  upon  the  heart. 

As  if  rejoicing  at  the  passing  of  death,  the  street 
suddenly  awakens.  A  very  hubbub  of  conversation 
arises.  Incoming  crowds  of  workmen,  striding  along 
with  that  peculiarly  easy  gait  common  to  the  bare- 
footed, jostle  each  other,  and  fling  jest  and  repartee 
in  guttural  Maltese.  Country  vehicles,  laden  with  all 
manner  of  queer  produce,  their  bitless  stallions  sway- 
ing tinkling  bells,  encumber  the  way.  Presently  all 
make  clear  the  crown  of  the  road  for  the  passage  of 
a  company  of  mounted  infantry,  which,  in  the  almost 
blatant  pride  of  fitness  and  workmanlike  appearance, 
sallies  forth  into  the  country  for  exercise  beyond  the 
walls.  But  hark !  martial  strains  are  heard,  a  joyous 
blare  of  brass,  a  gleeful  clatter  of  cymbal  and  drum. 
Hearts  beat  quicker,  the  foot  taps,  involuntarily  ac- 
knowledging the  power  of  music  to  elevate  or  depress 
the  mind.  Swinging  into  view  strides  a  jaunty  com- 
pany, with  heads  erect  and  splendid  swagger,  and  in 
their  midst  the  plain  imitation  gun-carriage,  which 
so  short  a  time  ago  was  burdened  with  the  flag- 
enwrapped  dead,  is  gaily  trundled  along.  The  mo- 
ments of  mourning  are  ended.  We  have  hidden  our 
dead  out  of  our  sight,  and,  with  a  spring  of  relief,  are 
back  again  with  the  duties  and  pleasures  of  the  living. 

The  great  sun  is  soaring  high,  and  already  his 
beams  are  heating  the  stones  so  that  we  can  hardly 

332      - 


A  Mediterranean  Morning 

bear  to  touch  them.  The  sea  is  rejoicing,  for  with 
the  sun  a  Httle  breeze  has  risen  and  covered  that 
gorgeous  expanse  of  sapphire  with  an  infinity  of 
wavelets,  each  crested  with  a  spray  of  diamonds.  A 
few  barbaric-looking  feluccas,  their  great  pointed  sails 
gleaming  like  snow  against  the  blue  sea,  are  creeping 
in  from  Gozo  or  Sicily,  laden  with  fruit  and  fish  for 
hungry  \'aletta.  Far  out,  a  long  black  stain  against 
the  clear  sky  betokens  the  presence  of  a  huge  steam- 
ship, homeward  bound  from  the  East,  and  avoiding 
these  bright  shores  carefully  because  of  stringent 
quarantine  regulations.  The  very  mention  of  the 
dread  word  "  plague "  is  enough  to  cause  a  panic 
here,  and  if  the  most  rigorous  exclusion,  at  whatever 
cost,  of  vessels  from  infected  ports,  will  keep  us  free, 
we  will  see  to  it  that  such  exclusion  is  practised. 

But  what  is  this  long,  phantom-like  vessel,  her 
colour  so  blending  with  the  blue  of  the  sea,  that  she 
is  difficult  to  distinguish?  Occasionally  from  one  of 
her  three  irregularly  placed  funnels  there  is  a  burst 
of  black  smoke,  but  otherwise  she  is  as  nearly  in- 
visible as  careful  painting  can  make  her.  Up  there 
at  the  lofty  look-out  station  the  signalmen  are  dis- 
cussing her  with  many  epithets  of  dislike.  They 
know  her  well,  and  all  her  kindred ;  know  well,  too, 
with  what  jealous,  longing  eyes  those  on  board  peer 
at  the  prosperous  island,  and  with  what  accents  of 
hatred  they  speak  of  the  insolent,  perfidious  Briton, 
who  dare  to  thus  maintain  a  station  of  such  strength, 
a  naval  base  of  such  inestimable  value,  in  the  midst 
of  what  should  be  a  Latin-governed  sea. 

333 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

But  the  treasure  so  coveted  is  not  only  guarded  by 
all  the  deadly  devices  known  to  modem  warfare,  it  is 
made  doubly  secure  in  that  these  swarthy  speakers  of 
a  strange  tongue  know  and  love  their  rulers  too  well 
to  exchange  them,  save  at  the  cost  of  almost  utter 
annihilation,  for  masters  whom  they  equally  well 
know  and  hate. 

The  morning  freshness  has  gone.  Valetta,  never 
quite  asleep  at  any  time,  only  drowsing  occasionally, 
is  wide  awake  now.  The  bright  waters  of  the  harbour 
are  alive  with  "  disos,"  gondola-like  boats,  and  small 
steamers.  The  hurrying  thousands  have  swarmed 
into  their  appointed  places  in  the  dockyard,  the  never- 
finished  stone-hewing  is  going  briskly  forward,  the 
market  is  a  howling  vortex  of  clamour  and  heat  and 
excitement ;  and  in  its  niche  of  living  rock  the  taber- 
nacle of  him  who  yesterday  was  Private ,  of  her 

Majesty's  army,  lies  quietly  oblivious  of  it  all. 


334 


ABNER'S  TRAGEDY 

Our  quaint  little  Guamese  was  vociferously 
cheered  at  the  close  of  his  yarn,  although  in  some 
parts  it  had  been  most  difficult  to  follow,  from  the 
bewildering  compound  of  dialects  it  was  delivered  in. 
Usually  that  does  not  trouble  whalers'  crews,  much 
accustomed  as  they  are  to  the  very  strangest  distor- 
tions of  the  adaptable  English  language.  "  The  next 
gentleman  to  oblige  "  was,  to  my  utter  amazement, 
Abner  Gushing,  the  child  of  calamity  from  Vermont, 
who  had  been  hung  up  by  the  thumbs  and  flogged  on 
the  outward  passage.  Up  till  then  we  had  all  looked 
upon  him  as  being  at  least  "  half  a  shingle  short,"  not 
to  say  downright  loony,  but  that  impression  now  re- 
ceived a  severe  shock.  In  a  cultivated  diction,  totally 
unlike  the  half-intelligible  drawl  hitherto  affected  by 
him,  he  related  the  following  story. 

"  Well,  boys,  I  dare  say  you  have  often  wondered 
what  could  have  brought  me  here.  Perhaps  (which, 
come  to  think  of  it,  is  more  likely)  you  haven't  trou- 
bled your  heads  about  me  at  all,  although  even  the 
meanest  of  us  like  to  think  that  we  fill  some  corner 
in  our  fellow's  mind.  But  if  you  have  wondered,  it 
could  not  be  considered  surprising.  For  I'm  a  lands- 
man if  ever  there  was  one,  a  farmer,  who,  after  even 

335 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

such  a  drilling  as  I've  gone  through  this  voyage,  still 
feels,  and  doubtless  looks,  as  awkward  on  board  as 
any  cow.  My  story  is  not  a  very  long  one,  perhaps 
hardly  worth  the  telling  to  anybody  but  myself,  but 
it  will  be  a  change  from  whaling  '  shop '  anyhow,  so 
here  goes. 

"  My  father  owned  a  big  farm  in  the  old  Green 
Mountain  state,  on  which  I  grew  up,  an  only  son,  but 
never  unduly  pampered  or  spoiled  by  the  good  old 
man.  No ;  both  he  and  mother,  though  fond  of  me  as 
it  was  possible  to  be,  strove  to  do  me  justice  by  train- 
ing me  up  and  not  allowing  me  to  sprout  anyhow  like 
a  jimpson  weed  to  do  as  I  darn  pleased  with  myself 
when  and  how  I  liked.  They  were  careful  to  keep 
me  out  of  temptation  too,  as  far  as  they  were  able, 
which  wasn't  so  difficult,  seeing  our  nearest  neigh- 
bour was  five  miles  away,  and  never  a  drop  of  liquor 
stronger  than  cider  ever  came  within  a  day's  journey 
of  home.  So  I  suppose  I  passed  as  a  pretty  good  boy ; 
at  least  there  were  no  complaints. 

"  One  day,  when  I  was  about  fifteen  years  old, 
father  drove  into  the  village  some  ten  miles  ofif  on 
business,  and  when  he  came  back  he  had  a  little  gold- 
en-haired girl  with  him  about  twelve  years  old.  A 
pale,  old-fashioned  little  slip  she  was,  as  staid  as  a 
grandmother,  and  dressed  in  deep  black.  When  I 
opened  the  gate  for  the  waggon,  father  said,  '  This  is 
your  cousin  Cicely,  Abner,  she's  an  orphan,  an'  I 
cal'late  to  raise  her.'  That  was  all  our  introduction, 
and  I,  like  the  unlicked  cub  I  must  have  been,  only 
said,  '  that  so,  father,'  staring  at  the  timid  little  crea- 


Abner's  Tragedy 


ture  so  critically,  that  her  pale  face  flushed  rosy  red 
under  my  raw  gaze.  I  helped  her  out  (light  as  a  bird 
she  was),  and  showed  her  into  the  house,  where 
mother  took  her  right  to  her  heart  on  the  spot.  From 
that  on  she  melted  into  the  home  life  as  if  she  had 
always  been  part  of  it,  a  quiet  patient  helper  that  made 
mother's  life  a  very  easy  one.  God  knows  it  had  been 
hard  enough.  Many  little  attentions  and  comforts 
unknown  before,  grew  to  be  a  part  of  our  daily  rou- 
tine, but  if  I  noticed  them  at  all  (and  I  hardly  think 
I  did  then),  I  took  them  as  a  matter  of  course,  nor 
ever  gave  sign  that  I  appreciated  the  thoughtful  care 
that  provided  them.  So  the  years  slithered  past  un- 
eventfully till  I  was  twenty-one,  when  dad  fell  sick. 
Within  a  week  he  was  dead.  It  was  a  terrible  stroke 
to  mother  and  Cicely,  but  neither  of  them  were  given 
to  much  show  of  feeling  (I  reckon  there  was  scant 
encouragement),  and  things  went  on  much  as  usual. 
I  didn't  seem  to  feel  it  very  much — didn't  seem  to 
feel  anything  much  in  those  days,  except  mad  with 
my  folks  when  everything  wasn't  just  as  I  wanted 
it.  Dad's  affairs  were  all  shipshape.  He  left  mother 
fairly  well  off,  and  Cicely  just  enough  to  live  on  in 
case  of  necessity,  while  I  came  in  for  everything  else, 
which  meant  an  income  of  1500  dollars  a  year  if  I 
chose  to  realize  and  not  work  any  more.  Being  now, 
however,  fairly  wound  up  like  any  other  machine,  and 
warranted  to  go  right  on  in  the  same  jog,  I  had  no 
thought  of  change.  Don't  suppose  I  ever  should 
have  had;  but —  Excuse  me,  boys,  I'm  a  bit  husky, 
and  there's  something  in  my  eye.    All  right  now. 

337 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

"  That  summer  we  had  boarders  from  Boston, 
well-to-do  city  folks  pining  for  a  change  of  air  and 
scene,  who  offered  a  big  price  for  such  accommoda- 
tion as  we  could  give  them  for  a  couple  of  months. 

"  I  drove  down  to  the  village  to  meet  them  with 
the  best  waggon,  and  found  them  waiting  for  me  at 
Squire  Pickering's  house — two  elderly  ladies  and  a 
young  one.  Boys,  I  can't  begin  to  describe  that 
young  lady  to  you;  all  I  know  is,  that  the  first  time 
our  eyes  met,  I  felt  kinder  as  I  guess  Eve  must  have 
done  when  she  eat  the  apple,  only  more  so.  All  my 
old  life  that  I  had  been  well  contented  with  came  up 
before  me  and  looked  just  unbearable.  I  felt  awk- 
ward, and  rough,  and  ugly ;  my  new  store  clothes  felt 
as  if  they'd  been  hewn  out  of  deals,  my  head  burned 
like  a  furnace,  and  my  hands  and  feet  were  numb 
cold.  When,  in  answer  to  some  trifling  question  put 
to  me  by  one  of  the  old  ladies,  I  said  a  few  words, 
they  sounded  'way  off  down  a  long  tunnel,  and  as 
if  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  them.  Worst  of  all,  I 
couldn't  keep  my  foolish  eyes  off  that  young  lady, 
do  what  I  would.  How  I  drove  the  waggon  home 
I  don't  know.  I  suppose  the  machine  was  geared  up 
so  well,  it  ran  of  its  own  accord — didn't  want  any 
thinking  done.  For  I  was  thinking  of  anything  in 
the  wide  world  but  my  duty.  I  was  a  soldier,  a  states- 
man, a  millionaire  by  turns,  but  only  that  I  might 
win  for  my  own  that  wonderful  creature  that  had 
come  like  an  unpredicted  comet  into  my  quiet  sky. 

"  Now,  don't  you  think  I'm  going  to  trouble  you 
with  my  love-making.     I'd  had  no  experience,  so  I 

338 


Abner's  Tragedy- 


dare  say  it  was  pretty  original,  but  the  only  thing 
I  can  remember  about  it  is  that  I  had  neither  eyes 
nor  ears  for  anything  or  anybody  else  but  Agatha 
Deerham  (that  was  her  name),  and  that  I  neglected 
everything  for  her.  She  took  my  worship  as  a  matter 
of  course,  calmly,  royally,  unconsciously ;  but  if  she 
smiled  on  me,  I  was  crazy  with  gladness. 

"  Meanwhile  my  behaviour  put  mother  and  Cicely 
about  no  end.  But  for  their  industry  and  forethought, 
things  would  have  been  in  a  pretty  muddle,  for  I  was 
worse  than  useless  to  them ;  spent  most  of  my  time 
mooning  about  like  the  brainsick  fool  I  was,  building 
castles  in  Spain,  or  trying  to  invent  something  that 
would  please  the  woman  I  worshipped.  Oh,  but  I 
was  blind ;  a  poor  blind  fool.  Looking  back  now,  I 
know  I  must  have  been  mad  as  well  as  blind.  Agatha 
saw  immediately  upon  coming  into  my  home  what  I 
had  never  seen  in  all  those  long  years — that  Cicely — 
quiet,  patient  little  Cicely — loved  me  with  her  whole 
heart,  and  would  have  died  to  serve  me.  So,  with  that 
refinement  of  cruelty  that  some  women  can  show,  she 
deliberately  set  herself,  not  to  infatuate  me  more — 
that  was  impossible — but  to  show  Cicely  that  she,  the 
new-comer,  while  not  valuing  my  love  at  a  pin,  could 
play  with  it,  prove  it,  trifle  with  it  as  she  listed. 

"  Sometimes  her  treatment  nearly  drove  me  frantic 
with  rage,  but  a  tender  glance  from  her  wonderful 
eyes  brought  me  fawning  to  her  feet  again  directly. 
Great  heaven,  how  she  made  me  suffer!  I  wonder 
I  didn't  go  really  mad,  I  was  in  such  a  tumult  of 
conflicting  passions  continually. 

339 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

"  The  time  drew  near  for  them  to  return  to  their 
city  home.  Now,  although  Agatha  had  tacitly  ac- 
cepted all  my  attentions,  nothing  definite  had  yet 
passed  between  us,  but  the  announcement  of  her  im- 
minent departure  brought  matters  to  a  climax.  Seiz- 
ing the  first  opportunity  of  being  alone  with  her,  I 
declared  my  passion  in  a  frenzy  of  wild  words,  offered 
her  my  hand,  and  swore  that  if  she  refused  me  I 
would  do — I  hardly  remember  what;  but,  among 
other  things,  certainly  kill  her,  and  then  myself.  She 
smiled  pityingly  upon  me,  and  quietly  said,  '  What 
about  Cicely  ? '  Bewildered  at  her  question,  so  little 
had  any  thought  of  Cicely  in  connection  with  love 
entered  my  head,  I  stared  for  a  few  moments  blankly 
at  the  beautiful  and  maliciously  smiling  face  before 
me,  muttering  at  last,  '  Whatever  do  you  mean  ?  ' 

"  With  a  ringing  laugh,  she  said,  '  Can  it  be  possi- 
ble that  you  are  unaware  how  your  cousin  worships 
you  ? '  Black  shame  upon  me,  I  was  not  content 
with  scornfully  repudiating  the  possibility  of  such  a 
thing,  but  poured  all  the  bitter  contempt  I  could  give 
utterance  to  upon  the  poor  girl,  whose  only  fault  was 
love  of  me.  While  thus  basely  engaged,  I  saw  Agatha 
change  colour,  and  turning,  found  Cicely  behind  me, 
trembling  and  livid  as  one  who  had  received  a  mortal 
wound.  Shame,  anger,  and  passion  for  Agatha  kept 
me  speechless  as  she  recovered  herself  and  silently 
glided  away. 

"  But  I  must  hurry  up  if  I'm  not  going  to  be 
tedious.  Encouraged  by  Agatha,  I  sold  the  farm, 
sending  mother  and  Cicely  adrift  to  live  upon  their 

340 


Abner's  Tragedy 


little  means,  and,  gathering  all  together,  took  my  de- 
parture for  Boston.  Arrangements  for  our  marriage 
were  hurried  on  at  my  request,  not  so  swiftly,  how- 
ever, but  that  news  reached  me  on  my  wedding  morn- 
ing of  mother's  death.  For  a  moment  I  was  stag- 
gered, even  the  peculiar  thing  which  served  me  for 
a  heart  felt  a  pang,  but  only  in  passing.  What  had 
become  of  Cicely  I  never  troubled  enough  to  think, 
much  less  to  inquire. 

"  Some  weeks  of  delirious  gaiety  followed,  during 
which  I  drank  to  the  full  from  the  cup  of  my  desires. 
Our  lives  were  a  whirl  of  what,  for  want  of  a  better 
word,  I  suppose  I  must  call  enjoyment ;  at  any  rate, 
we  did  and  had  whatever  we  had  a  mind  to,  nor  ever 
stopped  to  think  of  the  sequel.  We  had  no  home, 
never  waited  to  provide  one,  but  lived  at  a  smart 
hotel  at  a  rate  that  would  have  killed  my  father  to 
think  of. 

"  One  night  at  the  theatre  I  slipped  on  the  mar- 
ble staircase,  fell  to  the  bottom  a  tangle  of  limbs,  and 
was  taken  up  with  a  broken  leg,  right  arm,  and  collar 
bone.  At  some  one's  suggestion  I  was  removed  to 
hospital.  There,  but  for  the  ministrations  of  the 
nurses  and  surgeons,  I  was  left  alone,  not  a  single 
one  of  my  acquaintances  coming  near  me.  But  what 
worried  me  was  my  wife's  neglect.  What  could  have 
become  of  her?  Where  was  she?  These  ceaselessly 
repeated  and  unanswered  questions,  coupled  with  my 
utter  helplessness,  drove  me  into  a  brain  fever,  in 
which  I  lost  touch  with  the  world  for  six  weeks. 

"  I  awoke  one  morning,  a  wan  shade  of  my  old 

'^  341 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

self,  but  able  to  think  again  (would  to  God  I  never 
had).  I  was  informed  that  no  one  had  been  to  inquire 
after  me  during  my  long  delirium,  and  this  sombre 
fact  stood  up  before  me  like  a  barrier  never  to  be 
passed,  reared  between  me  and  any  hope  in  life.  But, 
in  spite  of  the  drawbacks,  I  got  better,  got  well,  came 
out  into  the  world  again.  I  was  homeless,  friendless, 
penniless.  The  proprietor  of  the  hotel  where  I  had 
stayed  with  my  wife  informed  me  that  she  had  left 
in  company  with  a  gentleman,  with  whom  she  seemed 
so  intimate  that  he  thought  it  must  be  some  relative, 
but  as  he  spoke,  I  read  the  truth  in  his  eyes.  He 
took  pity  on  my  forlorn  condition  and  gave  me  a 
little  money,  enough  to  keep  me  alive  for  a  week  or 
two,  but  strongly  advised  me  to  go  back  to  my  native 
village  and  stay  there.  I  was  too  broken  to  resent 
the  idea,  but  in  my  own  mind  there  was  a  formless 
plan  of  operations  insisting  upon  being  carried  out. 

"  Husbanding  my  little  stock  of  money  with  the 
utmost  care,  and  barely  spending  sufficient  to  support 
life,  I  began  a  search  for  my  wife.  Little  by  little  I 
learnt  the  ghastly  sordid  truth.  Virtue,  honour,  or 
probity,  had  never  been  known  to  her,  and  my  acci- 
dent only  gave  her  an  opportunity  that  she  had  been 
longing  for.  Why  she  had  married  me  was  a  mys- 
tery. Perhaps  she  sought  a  new  sensation,  and  didn't 
find  it. 

"  Well,  I  tracked  her  and  her  various  companions, 
until  after  about  three  months  I  lost  all  traces  in  New 
York.  Do  what  I  would,  no  more  news  of  her  could 
be  obtained.     But  I  had  grown  very  patient  in  my 

342 


Abner's  Tragedy 


search,  though  hardly  knowing  why  I  sought.  My 
purpose  was  as  hazy  as  my  plan  had  been.  So,  from 
day  to  day  I  plodded  through  such  small  jobs  as  I 
could  find,  never  losing  sight  for  an  hour  of  my  one 
object  in  life. 

"  I  must  have  been  in  New  York  quite  six 
months,  when  I  was  one  day  trudging  along  Bleecker 
Street  on  an  errand  for  somebody,  and  there  met  me 
face  to  face  my  cousin  Cicely.  I  did  not  know  her, 
but  she  recognized  me  instantly,  and  I  saw  in  her 
sweet  face  such  a  look  of  sympathy  and  loving  com- 
passion that,  broken-hearted,  I  covered  my  face  and 
cried  like  a  child.  '  Hush,'  she  said,  '  you  will  be 
molested,'  and,  putting  her  arm  through  mine,  she 
led  me  some  distance  to  a  dilapidated  house,  the  door 
of  which  she  opened  with  a  key.  Showing  me  into 
a  tidy  little  room,  she  bade  me  sit  down  while  she 
got  me  a  cup  of  coflfee,  refusing  to  enter  into  con- 
versation until  I  was  a  bit  refreshed.  Then,  bit  by 
bit,  I  learned  that  she  had  heard  of  my  desertion  by 
Agatha,  and  had  formed  a  resolution  to  find  her  and 
bring  her  back  to  me  if  possible.  She  did  find  her, 
but  was  repulsed  by  her  with  a  perfect  fury  of  scorn, 
and  told  to  go  and  find  me  and  keep  me,  since  such 
a  worthless  article  as  I  was  not  likely  to  be  useful  to 
any  other  person  on  earth.  Such  a  reception  would 
have  daunted  most  women ;  but  I  think  Cicely  was 
more  than  woman,  or  else  how  could  she  do  as 
she  did. 

"  Driven  from  my  wife's  presence,  she  never  lost 
sight  of  her,  feeling  sure  that  her  opportunity  would 

343 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

soon  come.  It  came  very  suddenly.  In  the  midst 
of  her  flaunting,  vicious  round  of  gaiety  small-pox 
seized  her,  and  as  she  had  left  me,  so  she  was  left, 
but  not  even  in  an  hospital.  Cicely  found  her  alone, 
raving,  tearing  at  her  flesh  in  agony,  with  no  one 
to  help  or  pity.  It  was  the  opportunity  she  had 
sought,  and  hour  by  hour  she  wrestled  with  death 
and  hell  for  that  miserable  woman.  It  was  a  long 
fight,  but  she  was  victorious,  and  although  a  sorrow- 
ful gap  was  made  in  her  small  stock  of  money,  she 
was  grateful  and  content. 

"  Agatha  was  a  wreck.  Utterly  hideous  to  look 
upon,  with  memory  like  a  tiger  tearing  at  her  heart, 
she  yet  had  not  the  courage  to  die,  or,  doubtless,  she 
would  quickly  have  ended  all  her  woes.  Quietly,  un- 
obtrusively, constantly.  Cicely  waited  on  her,  worked 
for  her,  and  at  last  had  succeeded  in  bringing  us  to- 
gether. The  knowledge  that  she  whom  I  had  sought 
so  long  was  in  the  same  house  took  away  my  breath. 
As  soon  as  I  recovered  myself  a  bit,  Cicely  went  to 
prepare  her  for  meeting  me.  Unknown  to  Cicely,  I 
followed,  and  almost  immediately  after  she  entered  the 
room  where  my  wife  lay,  I  presented  myself  at  the 
door.  Looking  past  the  woman  who  had  preserved 
her  miserable  life,  she  saw  my  face.  Then,  with  a 
horrible  cry,  unlike  anything  human,  she  sprang  at 
my  poor  cousin  like  a  jaguar,  tearing,  shrieking.  If 
I  dwell  any  longer  on  that  nightmare  I  shall  go  mad 
myself.  I  did  what  I  could,  and  bear  the  marks  of 
that  encounter  for  life,  but  I  could  not  save  Cicely's 
life. 

344 


Abner's  Tragedy 


"  The  room  filled  with  people,  and  the  maniac  was 
secured.  After  I  had  given  my  evidence  on  the  inquiry, 
I  slunk  away,  too  mean  to  live,  afraid  to  die.  A 
recruiter  secured  me  for  this  ship,  and  here  I  am,  but 
I  know  that  my  useless  life  is  nearly  over.  The  world 
will  be  well  rid  of  me." 

When  he  stopped  talking,  there  was  a  dead  silence 
for  a  few  minutes.  Such  a  yarn  was  unusual  among 
whalemen,  and  they  hardly  knew  how  to  take  it.  But 
the  oldest  veteran  of  the  party  dispelled  the  uneasy 
feeling  by  calling  for  a  song,  and  volunteering  one 
himself,  just  to  keep  things  going.  In  the  queerest 
nasal  twang  imaginable  he  thundered  out  some  twenty 
verses  of  doggerel  concerning  the  deeds  of  Admiral 
Semmes  of  the  Alabama,  with  a  different  tune  to  each 
verse.  It  was  uproariously  received,  but  story-telling 
held  the  field,  and  another  yam  was  demanded. 


345 


LOST  AND    FOUND 

A  Sea  Amendment 

He  stood  alone  on  the  little  pier,  a  pathetic  figure 
in  his  loneliness — a  boy  without  a  home  or  a  friend 
in  the  world.  There  was  only  one  thought  dominat- 
ing his  mind,  the  purely  animal  desire  for  sustenance, 
for  his  bodily  needs  lay  heavily  upon  him.  Yet  it 
never  occurred  to  him  to  ask  for  food— employment 
for  which  he  should  be  paid  such  scanty  wages  as 
would  supply  his  bare  needs  was  all  he  thought  of; 
for,  in  spite  of  years  of  semi-starvation,  he  had  never 
yet  eaten  bread  that  he  had  not  worked  for — the 
thought  of  doing  so  had  never  shaped  itself  in  his 
mind.  But  he  was  now  very  hungry,  and  as  he 
watched  the  vigorous  preparation  for  departure  in  full 
swing  on  board  the  smart  rakish-looking  fishing 
schooner  near  him,  he  felt  an  intense  longing  to  be 
one  of  the  toilers  on  her  decks,  with  a  right  to  obey 
the  call  presently  to  a  well-earned  meal.  Whether  by 
any  strange  thought-transference  his  craving  became 
known  to  the  bronzed  skipper  of  the  Rufus  B.  or 
not,  who  shall  say?  Sufficient  to  record  that  on  a 
sudden  that  stalwart  man  lifted  his  head,  and  looking 
steadily  at  the  lonely  lad.  he  said.  "  Wantin'  a  berth, 
sonny  ?  "    Although,  if  his  thoughts  could  have  been 

347 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

formulated,  such  a  question  was  the  one  of  all  others 
he  would  have  desired  to  hear,  the  lad  was  so  taken 
aback  by  the  realization  of  his  most  fervent  hopes 
that  for  several  seconds  he  could  return  no  an- 
swer, but  sat  endeavouring  to  moisten  his  lips  and 
vainly  seeking  in  his  bewildered  mind  for  words 
with  which  to  reply.  Another  sharp  query,  "  Air  ye 
deef  ?  "  brought  his  wits  to  a  focus,  and  he  replied 
humbly — 

"Yes,  sir!" 

"  Well,  whar's  yer  traps,  then  ?  "  queried  the  skip- 
per ;  "  'kaze  we're  boun'  ter  git  away  this  tide,  so  it's 
naow  er  never,  ef  you're  comin'." 

Before  answering,  the  boy  suddenly  gathered  him- 
self up,  and  sprang  in  two  bounds  from  his  position 
on  the  quay  to  the  side  of  the  skipper.  As  soon  as 
he  reached  him,  he  said,  in  rapid  disjointed  sen- 
tences— 

"  I've  got  no  close.  Ner  no  boardin'  house.  Ner 
yet  a  cent  in  the  world.  But  I  ben  to  sea  for  nearly 
three  year,  an'  ther  ain't  much  to  a  ship  thet  I  don' 
know.  I  never  ben  in  a  schooner  afore,  but  ef  you'll 
take  me,  Cap'n,  I'll  show  you  I'm  wuth  a  boy's  wages, 
anyhow." 

As  he  spoke  the  skipper  looked  down  indulgently 
at  him,  chewing  meditatively  the  while,  but  as  soon 
as  he  had  finished,  the  "  old  man  "  jerked  out — 

"  All  right.  Hook  on  ter  onct,  then ;  "  and  almost 
in  the  same  breath,  but  with  an  astonishing  increase 
of  sound,  "  Naow,  then,  caest  off  thet  guess  warp  for- 
rard  there,  'n  run  the  jib  up.     Come,  git  a  move  on 

'348 


Lost  and  Found 

ye — anybody'd  think  you  didn't  calk'late  on  leavin' 
Gloster  never  no  more." 

Cheery  "  Ay,  ay,  cap's,"  resounded  from  the  will- 
ing crowd  as  they  obeyed,  and  in  ten  minutes  the 
Rufus  B.  was  gliding  away  seawards  to  the  musical 
rattle  of  the  patent  blocks  and  the  harmonious  cries 
of  the  men  as  they  hoisted  the  sails  to  the  small  breeze 
that  was  stealing  off  the  land. 

The  grey  mist  of  early  morning  was  slowly  melt- 
ing off  the  picturesque  outline  of  the  Massachusetts 
shore  as  they  departed,  and  over  the  smooth  sea  be- 
fore them  fantastic  wreaths  and  curls  of  fog  hung 
about  like  the  reek  of  some  vast  invisible  fire  far  away. 
It  was  cold,  too,  with  a  clammy  chill  that  struck 
through  the  threadbare  suit  of  jeans  worn  by  the  new 
lad,  and  made  him  exert  himself  vigorously  to  keep 
his  blood  in  circulation.  So  hearty  were  his  efforts 
that  the  mixed  company  of  men  by  whom  he  was  sur- 
rounded noted  them  approvingly ;  and  although  to  a 
novice  their  occasional  remarks  would  have  sounded 
harsh  and  brutal,  he  felt  mightily  cheered  by  them, 
for  his  experienced  ear  immediately  recognized  the 
welcome  fact  that  his  abilities  were  being  appreciated 
at  their  full  value.  And  when,  in  answer  to  the  skip- 
per's order  of  "  Loose  thet  gaflf  taupsle,"  addressed  to 
no  one  in  particular,  he  sprang  up  the  main  rigging 
like  a  monkey  and  cast  off  the  gaskets,  sending  down 
the  tack  on  the  right  side,  and  shaking  out  the  sail 
in  a  seamanlike  fashion,  he  distinctly  heard  the  skip- 
per remark  to  the  chap  at  the  wheel,  "  Looks  *sif  we'd 
struck  a  useful  nipper  at  last,  Jake,"  the  words  were 

349 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

heady  as  a  drink  of  whisky.  Disdaining  the  ratUnes, 
he  slid  down  the  weather  backstays  Hke  a  flash  and 
dropped  lightly  on  deck,  his  cheek  flushed  and  his 
eye  sparkling,  all  his  woeful  loneliness  forgotten  in 
his  present  joy  of  finding  his  services  appreciated. 
But  the  grinning  darky  cook  just  then  put  his  head 
outside  his  caboose  door  and  shouted  "  Brekfuss." 
With  old  habit  strong  upon  him,  the  boy  bounded 
forrard  to  fetch  the  food  into  the  fo'c'sle,  but  to  his 
bewilderment,  and  the  darky's  boisterous  delight,  he 
found  that  in  his  new  craft  quite  a  different  order  of 
things  prevailed.  Here  all  hands  messed  like  Chris- 
tians at  one  common  table  in  the  cabin,  waited  upon 
*  by  the  cook,  and  eating  the  same  food ;  and  though 
they  looked  rough  and  piratical  enough,  all  behaved 
themselves  decently — in  strong  contrast  to  the  foul 
behaviour  our  hero  had  so  often  witnessed  in  the 
grimy  fo'c'sles  of  merchant  ships.  All  this  touched 
him,  even  though  he  was  so  ravenously  hungry  that 
his  senses  seemed  merged  in  the  purely  physical  satis- 
faction of  getting  filled  with  good  food.  At  last,  dur- 
ing a  lull  in  the  conversation,  which,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, was  mostly  upon  their  prospects  of  striking 
a  good  run  of  cod  at  an  early  date,  the  skipper  sud- 
denly looked  straight  at  the  boy,  and  said — 
"  Wut  djer  say  yer  name  wuz,  young  feller?" 
"  Tom  Burt,  sir,"  he  answered  promptly,  although 
he  was  tempted  to  say  that  he  hadn't  yet  been  asked 
his  name  at  all. 

"  Wall,    then,    Tom    Burt,"    replied    the    skipper, 
"  yew  shape  's  well  's  yew've  begun,  and  I'm  dog- 

350 


Lost  and  Found 

goned  ef  yew  won't  have  no  eend  of  a  blame  good 
time.  Th'  only  kind  er  critter  we  kain't  find  no  sort 
er  use  fer  in  a  Banker  's  a  loafer.  We  do  all  our 
bummin'  w'en  we  git  ashore,  'n  in  bad  weather ;  other 
times  everybody's  got  ter  git  up  an'  hustle  fer  all 
they're  wuth." 

Tom  looked  up  with  a  pleasant  smile,  feeling  quite 
at  his  ease  among  men  who  could  talk  to  him  as  if 
he,  too,  were  a  human  being  and  not  a  homeless  cur. 
He  didn't  make  any  resolves  to  do  his  level  best — 
he  would  do  that  anyhow — but  his  heart  beat  high 
with  satisfaction  at  his  treatment,  and  he  would  have 
kept  his  end  up  with  any  man  on  board  to  the  utmost 
ounce  of  his  strength.  But  meanwhile  they  had 
drawn  clear  of  the  land,  and  behind  them  dropped  a 
curtain  of  fog  hiding  it  completely  from  view.  To 
a  fresh  easterly  breeze  which  had  sprung  up,  the 
graceful  vessel  was  heading  north-east  for  the  Grand 
Banks,  gliding  through  the  long,  sullen  swell  like 
some  great,  lithe  greyhound,  and  yet  looking  up  al- 
most in  the  wind's  eye.  In  spite  of  the  breeze,  the 
towering  banks  of  fog  gradually  drew  closer  and 
closer  around  them  until  they  were  entirely  envel- 
oped therein,  as  if  wrapped  in  an  impenetrable  veil 
which  shut  out  all  the  world  beside.  The  ancient  tin 
horn  emitted  its  harsh  discords,  which  seemed  to  re- 
bound from  the  white  wall  round  about  them,  and  in 
very  deed  could  only  have  been  heard  a  ship's  length 
or  so  away.  And  presently,  out  of  the  encircling 
mantle  of  vapour,  there  came  a  roar  as  of  some  un- 
imaginable monster  wrathfully  seeking  its  prey,  the 

351 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

strident  sounds  tearing  their  way  through  the  dense 
whiteness  with  a  truly  terrific  clamour.  All  hands 
stood  peering  anxiously  out  over  the  waste  for  the 
first  sight  of  the  oncoming  terror,  until,  with  a  rush 
that  made  the  schooner  leap  and  stagger,  a  huge, 
indefinite  blackness  sped  past,  its  grim  mass  towering 
high  above  the  tiny  craft.  The  danger  over,  mut- 
tered comments  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth  as  to 
the  careless,  reckless  fashion  in  which  these  leviathans 
were  driven  through  the  thick  gloom  of  those  crowd- 
ed waters  in  utter  disregard  of  the  helpless  toilers  of 
the  sea.  Then,  to  the  intense  relief  of  all  hands,  the 
fog  began  to  melt  away,  and  by  nightfall  all  trace  of 
it  was  gone.  In  its  stead  the  great  blue  dome  of  the 
heavens,  besprinkled  with  a  myriad  glittering  stars, 
shut  them  in ;  while  the  keen,  eager  breeze  sent  the 
dancing  schooner  northward  at  a  great  rate  to  her 
destined  fishing-ground,  the  huge  plateau  in  the  At- 
lantic, oflF  Newfoundland,  that  the  codfish  loves. 

But  it  was  written  that  they  should  never  reach 
the  Virgin.  The  bright,  clear  weather  gave  way  to 
a  greasy,  filmy  sky,  accompanied  by  a  mournful,  sigh- 
ing wail  in  the  wind  that  sent  a  feeling  of  despond- 
ency through  the  least  experienced  of  the  fishermen, 
and  told  the  more  seasoned  hands  that  a  day  of  wrath 
was  fast  approaching,  better  than  the  most  delicately 
adjusted  barometer  would  have  done.  When  about 
sixty  miles  from  the  Banks  the  gale  burst  upon  the 
staunch  little  craft  in  all  its  fury,  testing  her  powers 
to  the  utmost  as,  under  a  tiny  square  of  canvas  in  the 
main  rigging,  she  met  and  coquetted  with  the  gather- 

352 


A  huge  sailing-ship  crushed  her  into  matchwood. 


Lost  and  Found 

ing  immensities  of  the  Atlantic  waves.  No  doubt  she 
would  have  easily  weathered  that  gale,  as  she  had 
done  so  many  others,  but  that  at  midnight,  during 
its  fiercest  fury,  there  came  blundering  along  a  huge 
four-masted  sailing-ship  running  under  topsails  and 
foresail  that,  like  some  blind  and  drunken  giant  stag- 
gered out  of  the  gloom  and  fell  upon  the  gallant  little 
schooner,  crushing  her  into  matchwood  beneath  that 
ruthless  iron  stem,  and  passing  on  unheeding  the 
awful  destruction  she  had  dealt  out  to  the  brave  little 
company  of  men.  It  was  all  so  sudden  that  the  agony 
of  suspense  was  mercifully  spared  them,  but  out  of 
the  weltering  vortex  which  swallowed  up  the  Rufus  B. 
only  two  persons  emerged  alive — Tom  Burt  and  Jem 
the  cook.  By  a  miracle  they  both  clung  to  the  same 
piece  of  flotsam — one  of  the  "  dorys  "  or  flat  little 
boats  used  by  the  Bankers  to  lay  out  their  long  lines 
when  on  the  Banks.  Of  course  she  was  bottom  up, 
and,  but  for  the  lifeline  which  the  forethought  of  the 
poor  skipper  had  caused  to  be  secured  to  the  gun- 
wale of  every  one  of  his  dorys,  they  could  not  have 
kept  hold  of  her  for  an  hour.  As  it  was,  before  they 
were  able  to  get  her  righted  in  that  tumultuous  sea, 
they  were  almost  at  their  last  gasp.  But  they  did 
succeed  in  getting  her  right  way  up  at  last,  and, 
crouching  low  in  her  flat  bottom,  they  dumbly 
awaited  whatever  Fate  had  in  store  for  them. 

A  mere  fragment  in  the  wide  waste,  they  clung 
desperately  to  life  through  the  slowly  creeping  hours 
while  the  storm  passed  away,  the  sky  cleared,  and  the 
sea  went  down.     The  friendly  sun  came  out  in  his 

353 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

strength  and  warmed  their  thin  blood.  But  his  beams 
did  more :  they  revealed  at  no, great  distance  the  shape 
of  a  ship  that  to  the  benumbed  fancies  of  the  two  waifs 
seemed  to  behave  in  most  erratic  fashion.  For  now 
she  would  head  toward  them,  again  she  would  slowly 
turn  as  if  upon  an  axis  until  she  presented  her  stern 
in  their  direction,  but  never  for  five  minutes  did  she 
keep  the  same  course.  Dimly  they  wondered  what 
manner  of  ship  she  might  be,  with  a  sort  of  impartial 
curiosity,  since  they  were  past  the  period  of  struggle. 
Well  for  them  that  it  was  so,  for  otherwise  their 
agonies  must  have  been  trebled  by  the  sight  of  rescue 
apparently  so  near  and  yet  impossible  of  attainment. 
So  they  just  sat  listlessly  in  their  empty  shell  gazing 
with  incurious  eyes  upon  the  strange  evolutions  of  the 
ship.  Yet,  by  that  peculiar  affinity  which  freely  float- 
ing bodies  have  at  sea,  the  ship  and  boat  were  surely 
drawing  nearer  each  other,  until  Tom  suddenly  awoke 
as  if  from  a  trance  to  find  that  they  were  so 
close  to  the  ship  that  a  strong  swimmer  might  easily 
gain  her  side.  The  discovery  gave  him  the  needed 
shock  to  arouse  his  small  store  of  vital  energy,  and, 
turning  to  his  companion,  he  said — his  voice  sounding 
strange  and  far  away — "  Doc,  rouse  up !  Here's  the 
ship !  Right  on  top  of  us,  man !  "  But  for  some 
minutes  the  negro  seemed  past  all  effort,  beyond 
hearing,  only  known  to  be  living  by  his  position. 
Desperate  now,  Tom  scrambled  towards  him,  and  in 
a  sudden  fever  of  excitement  shook,  beat,  and  pinched 
him.  No  response.  Then,  as  if  maddened  by  the 
failure  of  his  efforts,  the  boy  seized  one  of  the  big 

354 


Lost  and  Found       , 

black  hands  that  lay  so  nervelessly,  and,  snatching  it 
to  his  mouth,  bit  a  finger  to  the  bone.  A  long  dry 
groan  came  from  the  cook  as  he  feebly  pulled  his 
hand  away,  and  mechanically  thrust  the  injured  finger 
into  his  mouth.  The  trickling  blood  revived  him,  his 
dull  eyes  brightened,  and  looking  up  he  saw  the  ship 
close  alongside.  Without  a  word  he  stooped  and 
plunged  his  hands  into  the  water  on  either  side  the 
dory,  paddling  fiercely  in  the  direction  of  the  ship, 
while  Tom  immediately  followed  his  example.  Soon 
they  bumped  her  side,  and  as  she  rolled  slowly 
towards  them,  Tom  seized  the  chain-plates  and  clung 
limpet-like  for  an  instant,  then,  with  one  supreme 
effort,  hauled  himself  on  board  and  fell,  fainting  but 
safe,  on  her  deck. 

When  he  returned  to  life  again,  his  first  thought 
was  of  his  chum,  and  great  was  his  peace  to  find  that 
the  cook  had  also  gained  safety.  He  lay  near, 
stretched  out  listlessly  upon  the  timber,  with  which 
the  vessel's  deck  was  completely  filled,  rail-high,  fore 
and  aft.  Feebly,  like  some  decrepit  old  man,  Tom 
rose  to  his  knees  and  shuffled  towards  the  cook,  find- 
ing that  he  was  indeed  still  alive,  but  sleeping  so  sound- 
ly that  it  seemed  doubtful  whether  waking  would  be 
possible.  Reassured  by  finding  the  cook  living,  the 
boy  dragged  himself  aft,  wondering  feebly  how  it  was 
that  he  saw  no  member  of  this  large  vessel's  crew. 
He  gained  the  cabin  and  crawled  below,  finding 
everything  in  disorder,  as  if  she  had  been  boarded 
by  pirates  and  ravaged  for  anything  of  value  that 
might  be  concealed.     She  seemed  a  staunch,  stout, 

355 


^  Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

frigate-built  ship,  of  some  eleven  or  twelve  hundred 
tons  register,  English  built,  but  Norwegian  owned ; 
and  to  a  seaman's  eye  there  was  absolutely  no  reason 
why  she  should  thus  be  tumbling  unguided  about  the 
Atlantic — there  was  no  visible  cause  to  account  for 
her  abandonment.  Aloft  she  was  in  a  parlous  con- 
dition. The  braces  having  been  left  unbelayed,  her 
great  yards  had  long  been  swinging  to  and  fro  with 
every  thrust  of  the  wind  and  roll  of  the  ship,  until  it 
was  a  marvel  how  they  still  hung  in  their  places  at  all. 
Most  of  the  sails  were  in  rags,  the  unceasing  grind 
and  wrench  of  the  swinging  masses  of  timber  to  which 
they  were  secured  having  been  too  much  for  their 
endurance,  and  their  destruction  once  commenced, 
the  wind  had  speedily  completed  it. 

All  this,  requiring  so  long  to  tell,  was  taken  in  by 
the  lad  in  a  few  seconds,  but  his  first  thought  was 
for  food  and  drink  wherewith  to  revive  his  comrade. 
He  was  much  disappointed,  however,  to  find  that  not 
only  was  the  supply  of  eatables  very  scanty,  but  the 
quality  was  vile  beyond  comment — worse  than  even 
that  of  some  poverty-stricken  old  British  tub  pro- 
visioned at  an  auction  sale  of  condemned  naval  stores. 
The  best  he  could  do  for  Jem  was  to  soak  some  of 
the  almost  black  biscuit  in  water  until  soft,  and  then, 
hastening  to  his  side,  he  roused  the  almost  moribund 
man,  and  gently  coaxed  him  to  eat,  a  morsel  at  a 
time,  until,  to  his  joy,  he  found  the  poor  darky  begin- 
ning to  take  a  returning  interest  in  life.  Fortunately 
for  them,  the  weather  held  fine  all  that  day  and  night, 
relieving  them  from  anxiety  about  handling  the  big 

356 


Lost  and  Found 

vessel,  and  by  morning  they  were  both  sufficiently 
themselves  again  to  set  about  the  task  of  getting  her 
under  control.  A  little  at  a  time  they  reduced  the 
chaotic  web  of  gear  aloft  to  something  like  its  original 
systematic  arrangement,  and  under  such  sail  as  was 
still  capable  of  being  set  they  began  to  steer  to  the 
south-westward.  In  this,  as  in  everything  else  now, 
the  boy  took  the  lead,  for  Jem  had  never  set  foot  upon 
a  square-rigged  ship  before,  and  even  his  schooner 
experience  had  been  confined  to  the  galley.  But  Tom 
had  spent  his  three  years  at  sea  entirely  in  large 
square-rigged  ships,  and,  being  a  bright  observant 
lad,  already  knew  more  about  them  and  their  manipu- 
lation than  many  sailor-men  learn  all  their  lives.  He 
it  was  who  set  the  course,  having  carefully  watched 
the  direction  steered  from  Gloster  by  the  hapless 
Rufus  B.,  and  now  he  judged  that  a  reversal  of  it 
would  certainly  bring  them  within  hail  of  the  Amer- 
ican seaboard  again,  if  they  could  hold  on  it  long 
enough.  So  all  day  long  the  two  toiled  like  beavers 
to  make  things  aloft  more  shipshape,  letting  the  vessel 
steer  herself  as  much  as  possible,  content  if  she  would 
only  keep  within  four  points  of  her  course.  With 
all  their  labours  they  could  not  prevent  her  looking 
like  some  huge  floating  scarecrow  that  had  somehow 
got  adrift  from  its  native  garden  and  wandered  out 
to  sea.  Her  appearance  simply  clamoured  for  inter- 
ference by  any  passing  ship  in  trumpet  tones  had  one 
entered  the  same  horizon,  but  much  to  the  young- 
ster's wonder,  and  presently  to  his  secret  delight,  not 
a  sail  hove  in  sight  day  after  day. 

^  357 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

Thus  a  fortnight  passed  away  satisfactorily  enough 
but  for  the  wretched  food  and  the  baffling  winds,  that 
would  not  permit  them  to  make  more  than  a  meagre 
handful  of  miles  per  day  towards  the  land,  and  wor- 
ried Tom  not  a  little  with  the  idea  that  perhaps  the 
Gulf  Stream  might  be  sweeping  them  steadily  east- 
ward at  a  much  greater  rate  than  they  were  able  to 
sail  west.  But  he  did  not  whisper  a  syllable  of  his 
fears  to  his  shipmate  in  case  of  disheartening  that  do- 
cile darky,  whom  even  now  he  often  caught  wistfully 
looking  towards  him,  as  if  for  some  further  comfort. 
He  himself  was  full  of  high  hopes,  building  a  fan- 
tastic mental  edifice  upon  the  prospect  of  being  able 
to  make  the  land  unaided,  and  therefore  becoming 
entitled  not  only  to  the  glory  of  a  great  exploit  in 
ship-handling  but  also  to  the  possession  of  a  fortune, 
as  he  knew  full  well  his  share  of  the  salvage  of  this 
ship  would  be.  For  although  she  contained  but  a 
cheap  cargo  of  lumber,  yet  from  her  size  and  sea- 
worthiness she  was  worth  a  very  large  sum  could  she 
be  brought  into  port  without  further  injury,  her  hull 
being,  as  sailors  say,  "  as  tight  as  a  bottle  " — that  is, 
she  leaked  not  at  all.  But  both  the  shipmates  were 
puzzled  almost  to  distraction  to  account  for  a  vessel 
in  her  condition  being  abandoned.  Nearly  every 
spare  moment  in  which  they  could  be  together  was 
devoted  to  the  discussion  of  this  mystery,  and  dark 
Jem  showed  a  most  fertile  inventiveness  in  bringing 
out  new  theories,  none  of  which,  however,  could 
throw  the  slightest  glimmer  of  explanation  upon  the 
subject.     Except  that  from  the  disorder  of  the  cabin 

358 


Lost  and   Found 

and  fo'c'slc,  and  the  absence  of  the  boats,  with  their 
lashings  left  just  as  they  had  been  hacked  adrift,  there 
was  no  other  clue  to  the  going  of  her  crew;  and,  if, 
as  was  probable,  the  deserters  had  afterwards  been 
lost  by  the  swamping  of  their  frail  craft,  this  mystery 
was  but  another  item  in  the  long  list  of  unravelled 
sea-puzzles. 

But  one  evening  the  sun  set  in  a  lowering  red 
haze,  which,  though  dull  like  a  dying  fire,  stained 
the  oily-looking  sea  as  if  with  stale  blood.  The  feeble 
uncertain  wind  sank  into  fitful  breaths,  and  at  last 
died  completely  away.  Gigantic  masses  of  gloomy 
cloud  came  into  being,  apparently  without  motion  of 
any  kind,  marshalling  their  vast  formlessness  around 
the  shrinking  horizon.  As  the  last  lurid  streaks  faded 
out  of  the  sky,  and  utter  darkness  enfolded  them,  the 
two  lonely  wanderers  clung  together,  as  if  by  the 
touch  of  each  other's  living  bodies  to  counteract  the 
benumbing  effect  of  the  terrible  quiet.  Deeper, 
denser  grew  the  darkness,  heavier  grew  the  burden 
of  silence,  until  at  the  thin  cry  of  a  petrel  out  of  the 
black  depths  their  hearts  felt  most  grateful.  It  was 
like  a  tiny  message  telling  them  that  the  world  was 
not  yet  dead.  A  sudden,  hissing  spiral  of  blue  flame 
rent  the  clouds  asunder,  and  immediately,  as  if  it 
leaped  upon  them  through  the  jagged  cleft  in  that 
grim  barrier,  the  gale  burst.  Wind,  lightning,  thun- 
der, rain ;  all  joined  in  that  elemental  orchestra,  with 
ever-increasing  fury  of  sound  as  they  smote  upon  the 
amazed  sea,  as  if  in  angry  scorn  of  its  smoothness. 
In   the   midst   of  that   tremendous   tumult   the    two 

359 


Deep-Sea  Plunderings 

chums  were  powerless — they  dared  not  move  from 
the  helm,  even  though,  with  yards  untrimmed,  their 
presence  there  was  useless.  But,  in  some  curious 
freak  of  the  neglected  vessel,  she  flung  her  head  off 
the  wind  farther  and  farther  until  the  boy  suddenly 
snatched  at  hope  again,  and  spun  the  wheel  round 
to  assist  her.  Off  she  went  before  the  wind  like  a 
hunted  thing,  and  knowing  it  was  their  only  chance 
for  life,  the  two  friends  laboured  to  keep  her  so.  It 
was  so  dark  that  they  could  not  see  anything  aloft, 
so  that  they  did  not  know  how  far  the  small  amount 
of  sail  on  her  when  the  gale  burst  still  remained ;  but 
that  mattered  little,  since  they  were  powerless  in  any 
case.  But  they  stuck  to  their  steering,  caring  nothing 
for  the  course  made  as  long  as  she  could  be  kept 
before  the  gale.  And  in  the  bitter  grey  of  the  morn- 
ing they  saw  a  graceful  shape,  dim  and  indefinite,  yet 
near,  that  reminded  them  painfully  of  their  late  vessel 
and  her  hapless  crew.  The  shadowy  stranger  drew 
nearer,  until,  with  thumping  hearts,  they  recognized 
one  of  the  schooners  belonging  to  that  daring,  hardy 
service,  the  New  York  Pilots.  Rushing  to  the  side, 
Tom  waved  his  arms,  for  they  were  now  so  close 
together  that  he  could  see  the  figures  grouped  aft. 
With  consummate  seamanship,  the  schooner  was 
manoeuvred  towards  the  ship  until  so  close  that  three 
men  sprang  from  her  rail  into  the  ship's  mizzen  rig- 
ging. Few  words  passed,  but  leaving  one  of  their 
number  at  the  wheel,  the  other  two  worked  like  giants 
to  get  a  little  sail  set,  while  the  schooner,  shaking  out 
a  reef,  bounded  ahead  to  bespeak  steam  aid. 
360 


Lost  and  Found 

With  such  assistance,  the  troubles  of  the  two  wan- 
derers were  now  at  an  end,  and  in  less  than  thirty 
hours  they  were  snugly  anchored  in  New  York  har- 
bour, with  a  blazing  fire  in  the  galley  and  a  Christian 
meal  before  them.  At  the  Salvage  Court,  held  soon 
after,  their  share  came  to  $7,000,  equally  divided  be- 
tween the  two  of  them,  the  pilot  crew  receiving  $3,000 
for  their  two  days'  work.  Feeling  like  millionaires, 
they  hurried  back  to  Gloster,  fully  agreed  to  do  what 
they  could  for  the  benefit  of  their  late  shipmates'  be- 
reaved ones,  and  handing  over  to  the  authorities  for 
that  purpose  on  their  arrival  half  of  their  gains.  Then 
Jem,  declaring  that  he  had  seen  all  he  wanted  of  fish- 
ing, opened  a  small  oyster  saloon  in  Gloster,  while 
Tom,  aided  by  the  advice  of  a  gentleman  who  was 
greatly  interested  in  the  whole  story,  entered  himself 
at  Columbia  College.    He  will  be  heard  of  again. 


THE    END 


361 


A  PICTURESQUE  BOOK  OF  THE  SEA. 

A  Sailor's  Log. 

Recollections  of  Forty  Tears  of  Naval  Life.  By  Rear- 
Admiral  Robley  D.  Evans,  U.S.  N.  Illustrated. 
Large  i2mo.     Cloth,  |2.oo. 

"It  is  essentially  a  book  for  men,  young  and  old  ;  and  the 
man  who  does  not  enjoy  it  is  lacking  in  healthy  red  blood." — 
Chicago  Bookseller. 

•*  A  profoundly  interesting  book.  There  is  not  a  line  of  bra- 
vado in  its  chapters,  nor  a  carping  criticism.  It  is  a  book  which 
will  increase  the  esteem  and  high  honor  which  the  American  feels 
and  willingly  awards  our  naval  heroes." — Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

*'  It  would  be  difficult  to  find  an  autobiography  possessing 
more  interest  than  this  narrative  of  forty  years  of  acdve  naval  serv- 
ice. It  equals  the  most  fascinating  novel  for  interest ;  it  contains 
a  great  deal  of  material  that  has  a  distinct  historical  value.  .  .  . 
Altogether  it  is  a  most  delightful  book." — Brooklyn  Eagle. 

*'  His  is  a  picturesque  personality,  and  he  stands  the  supreme 
test  by  being  as  popular  with  his  officers  and  men  as  he  is  with 
the  public  generally.  His  life  has  been  one  of  action  and  adven- 
ture since  he  was  a  boy,  and  the  record  of  it  which  he  has  pre- 
pared in  his  book  'A  Sailor's  Log*  has  not  a  dull  line  in  it  from 
cover  to  cover.  It  is  all  action,  action,  and  again  acdon  from  the 
first  page  to  the  last,  and  makes  one  want  to  go  and  'do  things  ' 
himself.  Any  boy  between  ritteen  and  nineteen  who  reads  this 
book  and  does  not  want  to  go  to  sea  must  be  a  sluggish  youth. 
.  .  .  The  book  is  really  an  interesting  record  of  an  interesting 
man." — Nete  Tork  Press. 

D.     APPLETON     AND     COMPANY,     NEW     YORK. 


BOOKS  BY  C  C  HOTCHKISS 


The  Strength  of  the  Weak. 

izmo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

The  delightful  outdoor  quality  of  Mr.  Hotchkiss's  novel  forms  a  charming 
accompaniment  to  the  adventurous  happenings  of  the  romance  The  author 
has  found  some  apt  suggestions  in  the  diary  of  a  soldier  of  the  New  Hampshire 
Grants,  and  these  actual  experiences  have  been  utilized  in  the  development  of 
the  tale.  The  story  is  one  of  love  and  daring  and  American  courage,  and  the 
varying  outdoor  scenes  which  succeed  each  other  as  the  tale  unfolds  provide  a 
picturesqueness  and  zest  which  show  the  increasing  power  of  an  author  whose 
previous  books  have  won  for  him  a  large  circle  of  admirers. 

Betsy  Ross. 

A  Romance  of  the  Flag.      i2ino.      Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  A  novelized  drama,  and  a  right  good  one,  too,  with  plenty  of  stir,  patriot* 
ism,  and  love." — New  York  World. 

"  '  Betsy  Ross '  reaches  the  American  ideal  in  fiction.  It  is  the  long- 
looked-for  American  novel.  Stirring,  intense,  dealing  with  great  native 
characters,  and  recalling  some  of  the  noblest  incidents  connected  with  our 
national  history,  it  is  the  one  novel  of  the  time  that  fulfills  the  ideal  that  we 
had  all  conceived,  but  no  one  had  before  accomplished." — Philadelphia  Item. 

In  Defiance  of  the  King. 

l2mo.      Cloth,  ^ 1. 00;   paper,  50  cents. 

"  As  a  love  romance  it  is  charming,  while  it  is  filled  with  thrilling  adventure 
and  deeds  of  patriotic  daring  " — Boston  y^d-vertiser. 

"  A  remarkable  good  story.  .  .  .  The  heart  beats  quickly,  and  we  feel 
ourselves  taking  a  part  in  the  exciting  scenes  described,  the  popular  breeze  seizes 
upon  us  and  whirls  us  away  into  the  tumult  of  war." — Chicago  Evening  Pott. 

A  Colonial  Free-Lance. 

izmo.      Cloth,  $1.00;  paper,  50  cents. 

"  A  fine,  stirring  picture  of  the  period,  full  of  brave  deeds,  startling  though 
not  improbable  incidents,  and  of  absorbing  interest  from  beginning  to  end." — 
Boston  Transcript. 

"  A  brave,  moving,  spirited,  readable  romance.  Every  one  of  his  pages  is 
aglow  with  the  fire  of  patriotism,  the  vigor  of  adventure,  and  the  daring  of 
reckless  bravery."  —  Washington  Times. 

D.    APPLETON     AND     COMPANY,     NEW    YORK. 


RECENT  nCTION. 


A  Nest  of  Linnets. 

By  F.  Frankfort  Moore,  author  of  «*The  Jcssamy  Bride,** 
**A  Gray  Eye  or  So,"  etc.     Illustrated,     izmo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"That  'A  Nest  of  Linnets  *  is  bright,  clever,  and  well  written  follows  as  a 
matter  of  course,  considering  that  it  was  written  by  F.  Frankfort  Moore.  "^ 
Philadelphia  Telegraph. 

The  Eternal  City. 

By  Hall  Caine,  author  of  '*  The  Christian,"  '*  The  Manx- 
man," "The  Bondman,"  "The  Deemster,"  etc.  l2mo. 
Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  A  oowerful  novel,  inspired  by  a  lofty  conception,  and  carried  out  with 
unusual  force.  It  is  the  greatest  thing  that  Hall  Caine  has  ever  attempted. '  *— 
Brooklyn  Eagle, 

The  Teller. 

By  Edward  Noyes  Westcott,  author  of  "David  Harum." 
Illustrated.     i2mo.     Cloth,  jsi.oo. 

The  publishers  of  "  David  Harum  ' '  have  the  pleasure  of  presenting  the 
only  other  story  written  by  the  lamented  Edward  Noyes  Westcott.  Mr.  West- 
cott's  business  life  lay  with  practical  financial  matters,  and  in  "The Teller"  he 
has  drawn  upon  his  knowledge  of  life  in  a  bank. 

When    Love   Flies  Out   o*   the  Win- 
dow. 

By  Leonard  Merrick,     i  2mo.     Cloth,  ^i.oo  ;  paper,  50  cents. 

"The  attention  of  the  reader  is  held  from  start  to  finish,  because  the  whole 
plot  is  original,  and  one  can  not  tell  what  is  going  to  happen  next." — fFath- 
ingun  Timet. 

The  Beleaguered  Forest. 

By  Elia  W.  Peattie.     i  2mo.     Cloth,  J  1.50. 

"'The  Beleaguered  Forest'  is  not  a  novel — it  is  a  romance;  it  is  not  a 
rsmance — it  is  a  poem." — Chicago  Pott. 

D.      APFLETON      AND     COMPANY,      NEW      YORK. 


RECENT  FICTION. 


Some  Women  I  have  Known. 

By  Maarten  Maartens,  author  of  "God's  Fool,"  etc.  With 
Frontispiece.     1 2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"Maarten  Maartens  stands  head  and  shoulders  above  the  average  novelist 
of  the  day  in  intellectual  subtlety  and  imaginative  power." — Boston  Beacon. 

The  Wage  of  Character. 

By  JuLiEN  Gordon,  author  of  "  Mrs.  Clyde,"  etc.  With  Por- 
trait.    i2mo.     Cloth,  5I-25- 

Julien  Gordon's  new  novel  is  a  story  of  the  world  of  fashion  and  intrigue, 
written  with  an  insight,  an  epigrammatic  force,  and  a  realization  of  the  dra- 
matic and  the  pathetic  as  well  as  more  superficial  phases  of  life,  that  stamp  the 
book  as  one  immediate  and  personal  in  its  interest  and  convincing  in  its  appeal 
to  the  minds  and  to  the  sympathies  of  readers. 

The  Quiberon  Touch. 

A  Romance  of  the  Sea.  By  Cyrus  Townsend  Brady,  author  of 
**  For  the  Freedom  of  the  Sea,"  "  The  Grip  of  Honor,"  etc. 
With  Frontispiece,     i  zmo.     Cloth,  ^1.50. 

"This  story  has  a  real  beauty;  it  breathes  of  the  sea.  Fenimore  Cooper 
would  not  be  ashamed  to  own  a  disciple  in  the  school  of  which  he  was  master 
in  these  descriptions  of  the  tug  of  war  as  it  was  in  the  eighteenth  century  between 
battle-ships  under  sail." — Neiv  York  Mail  and  Express. 

Shipmates. 

A  Volume  of  Salt -Water  Fiction.  By  Morgan  Robertson, 
author  of  *•  Masters  of  Men,"  etc.  With  Frontispiece.  l2mo. 
Cloth,  $1.50. 

When  Mr.  Robertson  writes  of  the  sea,  the  tang  of  the  brine  and  the  snap 
of  the  sea-breeze  are  felt  behind  his  words.  The  adventures  and  mysteries  of 
sea  life,  the  humors  and  strange  complications  possible  in  yachting,  the  inner 
tragedies  of  the  foks'l,  the  delightful  adventures  of  Finnegan  in  war,  and  the 
original  developments  in  the  course  of  true  love  at  sea,  are  among  the  vivid 
pictures  that  make  up  a  volume  so  vital  in  its  interests  and  dramatic  in  its  situa- 
tions, so  delightful  in  its  quaint  humor  and  so  vigorous  and  stirring  throughout, 
that  it  will  be  read  by  sea  lovers  for  its  full  flavor  of  the  sea,  and  by  others  as  a 
refreshing  tonic. 

D.      APPLETON      AND      COMPANY,     NEW     YORK. 


RECENT  ncnoN. 


Shacklett. 

A   Story   of    American    Politics.       By  Walter  Barr.       i2mo. 
Cloth,  $1.50. 

'*  As  a  picture  of  American  political  life  and  possibilities  it  is  wonderfiiUjr 
\ivid  and  truthful." — Brooklyn  Eagle. 

Four-Leaved  Clover. 

By  Maxwell  Gray,  author  of  "  The  Silence  of  Dean  Maitland." 
izmo.      Cloth,  $1.00;   paper,  50  cents. 

•*  An  honest  piece  of  work  by  a  story-teller  who  knows  her  trade  thor- 
oughly. .  .  .  Ic  is  a  book  which  ought  to  be  in  every  hammock." — Pimburg 
Commercial  Gazette. 

A  Woman  Alone. 

By  Mrs.  W.  K.  Clifford,  author  of '•  Love  Letters  of  a  Worldly 
Woman."      i  2mo.      Cloth,  $1.00;  paper,  50  cents. 

*'  Mrs.  Clifford  is  an  adroit  writer,  whose  knowledge  of  the  world  and  whose 
brilliancy  have  not  destroyed  in  her  a  simple  tenderness  to  which  every  sensitive 
reader  must  respond." — Chicago  Tribune. 

Mills  of  God. 

By    Elinor    Macartney    Lane.      Illustrated.      i2mo.      Cloth, 

$1.50. 

"  It  is  a  good  novel  in  comparison  with  even  the  best  in  current  American 
fiction.  Its  author,  in  this  her  maiden  eifort,  easily  takes  her  place  among  the 
Churchills  and  the  Johnstons  and  the  Runklcs." — Nevj  Tori  Herald. 

The  Seal  of  Silence. 

By  Arthur  R.  Conder.      izmo.      Cloth,   ^i.oo;    paper,  50 
cents. 

"  A  novel  of  marked  originality,  of  extraordinary  strength.  ...  I  recom- 
mend this  very  dramatic  and  exciting  story,  with  its  quaint  love  interest  and  its 
dry,  quiet  humor,  to  all  lovers  of  a  good  story  capitally  conceived  and  happily 
toli." — Georgk  S.  Goodwin,  in  PkilaJttphia  Item. 

D.  Apr  I.  ETON  AND  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK. 


BOOKS   BY   JULIEN   GORDON. 

Each,  )2mo,  cloth. 


The  Wage  of  Character.    $1.25. 

Julien  Gordon's  new  story  of  modem  society  is  in  her  most  brilliant 
vein.  Glimpses  of  social  life  in  New  York  are  accompanied  by  vivid 
pictures  of  political  life  and  society  in  Washington.  Her  novel  is  a 
story  of  the  world  of  fashion  and  intrigue,  written  with  an  insight,  an 
epigrammatic  force,  and  a  realization  of  the  dramatic  and  the  pathetic, 
as  well  as  more  superficial  phases  of  life,  that  stamp  the  book  as  one 
immediate  and  personal  in  its  interest  and  convincing  in  its  appeal  to 
the  minds  and  to  the  sympathies  of  readers. 

Mrs.  Clyde.     $1.50. 

"  It  all  makes  a  story  of  exceeding  interest,  with  now  and  then  some 
delicious  moments." — New  York  Herald. 

"  A  pure  literary  style,  combined  with  graphic  incidents,  and  punc- 
tuated with  deep,  shrewdly  expressed  aphorisms  on  social  forms,  makes 
this  a  story  of  exceptional  strength  and  interesL  This  is  a  strong, 
brilliant  story." — Philadelphia  Item. 

His   Letters.     New  Edition.     $1.50. 

"  The  writer's  style  and  diction  are  charming,  and  these  passionate 
letters  touch  the  chords  of  emotion  and  sympathy  in  the  reader's 
heart." — New  Haven  Journal  and  Courier. 

"  The  letters  are  bound  to  rank  high  in  the  mass  of  epistolary  liter- 
ature— fact  and  fiction — which  looms  in  the  season's  output  of  the 
army  of  publishers." — St.  Louis  Republic. 

A  Puritan   Pagan.    $1.00. 

"  This  beautiful  novel  will,  without  doubt,  add  to  the  repute  of  the 
writer,  who  chooses  to  be  known  as  Julien  Gordon.  .  .  .  The  ethical 
purpose  of  the  author  is  kept  fully  in  evidence  through  a  series  of  in- 
tensely interesting  situations." — Boston  Beacon. 

D.    APPLETON     AND     COMPANY,     NEW    YORK. 


NOVELS   BY   HALL   CAINE. 

Unifonn  Edition*    Each,  )2aio»  cloth. 


The  Eternal  City.    $1.50. 

"  One  of  the  very  strongest  productions  in  Sction  that  the  present  age  has  bees 
privileged  to  enjoy." — fkiiaeUlphia  Itim. 

"  The  novel  is  wonderful  in  its  power,  its  wealth  of  dramatic  incident,  and  its  ricb> 
ness  of  diction." — RochfiUr  Democrat  and  CkronicU. 

"  A  powerful  novel,  inspired  by  a  lofty  conception,  and  carried  out  with  unuxual 
force.     It  is  the  greatest  thing  that  Hall  Caine  has  ever  attempted." — BrocklymEagit. 

The  Christian.    $1.50. 

"  A  book  of  wonderful  power  and  (otcc." —Brooklyn  Eagle. 

"  lis  strength  grasps  you  at  the  beginning  and  holds  you  to  the  end.  There  is  in  it 
something  of  the  fervor  of  true  prophecy." — Chicago  fournal. 

"  The  public  is  hardly  prepared  for  so  remarkable  a  performance  as  '  The  Chris> 
tian.'  ...  A  permanent  addition  to  English  literature.  .  .  .  Above  and  beyond  any 
popularity  that  is  merely  temporary." — Bostou  Htrald. 

The  Manxman.    $1.50. 

"  May  easily  challenge  comparison  with  the  best  novels  of  the  latter  part  of  the 
century.  ' — San  Francitco  Call. 

"  Hall  Caine  has  the  art  of  being  human  and  humane,  and  his  characters  have  the 
strength  of  elemental  things.  In  '  The  .Manxman  '  he  handles  large  human  questions — 
the  questions  of  lawful  and  lawless  love." — Arw  York  Commercial  Afivertutr. 

The  Deemster.    $1.50. 

New  copyright  edition,  revised  by  the  auikor. 
"  Hall  Caine  has   already  given  us  some  very  strong  and  fine  work,  and  '  The 
Deemster'  is  a  story  of  unusual  power.   .  .      Certain  passages  and  chapters  have  an 
intensely  dramatic  grasp,  and  hold  the  fascinated  readier  with  a  force  rarely  excited 
nowadays  in  literature." — TAe  Critic. 

The  Bondman.    $1.50. 

Xew  copyright  edition,  revised  by  the  author. 
"  A  story  of  Iceland  and  Icelanders  at  an  early  era.  Our  author  throws  a  charm 
about  the  homes  a.  d  people  he  Hevrribes  which  will  wm  the  interest  and  care  of  every 
reader.  Their  simple  lives  and  leeends.  which  shaped  and  directed  them,  take  the 
reader  clear  away  from  the  sensational  and  feveri&h  and  unhealthy  romance  and  give 
tlie  mind  a  tcm."  —  Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

The  Scapegoat.    Si. 50. 

New  co^right  edition,  revised  by  the  author. 

Capt'n  Davy's  Honeymoon.    $1.00. 
The   Little   Manx  Nation.    $1.00. 

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BY  CYRUS  TOWNSEND  BRADY^ 
The  Quiberon  Touch. 

A  Romance  of  the  Sea.  With  frontispiece,  izmo.  Cloth, 
$1.50. 

"  A  story  to  make  your  pulse  leap  and  your  eyes  glisten.  It  fairly  glows 
with  color  and  throbs  with  movement." — Philadelphia  Item. 

"  This  story  has  a  real  beauty  ;  it  breathes  of  the  sea.  Fenimore  Cooper 
would  not  be  ashamed  to  own  a  disciple  in  the  school  of  which  he  was  mas- 
ter in  these  descriptions  of  the  tug  of  war  as  it  was  in  the  eighteenth  century 
between  battle-ships  under  sail." — New  York  Mail  and  Express. 

Commodore  Paul  Jones. 

A  new  volume  in  the  Great  Commander  Series,  edited 
by  General  James  Grant  Wilson.  With  Photogravure 
Portrait  and  Maps.  i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.50  net ;  postage, 
II  cents  additional. 

"  a  thousand  times  more  interesting  than  any  of  the  so-called  historical 
romances  that  are  now  in  vog^ie." — Spirit  of  the  Times. 

"  Mr.  Brady's  vigorous  style,  vivid  imagination,  and  dramatic  force  are 
most  happily  exhibited  in  this  book." — Philadelphia  Press. 

"  Incomparably  fine.  Being  the  work  of  a  scholarly  writer,  it  must  stand 
as  the  best  popular  life  yet  available.  The  book  is  one  to  buy  and  own.  It 
is  more  interesting  than  any  novel,  and  better  written  than  most  histories." — 
Nautical  Gazette, 

Reuben  James. 

A  Hero  of  the  Forecastle.     A  new  volume  in  the  Young 

Heroes  of  Our  Navy  Series.     Illustrated  by  George 

Gibbs  and  Others.     i2mo.     Cloth,  $1.00. 

•'  A  lively  and  spirited  narrative." — Boston  Herald. 

"  Mr.  Brady  has  made  a  stirring  tale  out  of  the  material  before  him,  one 
of  those  brilliant  and  forceful  descriptions  of  the  glories  of  the  old  wooden- 
walled  navy,  which  stir  the  blood  like  a  trumpet  call." — Brooklyn  Eagle. 

D.    APPLETON    and    company,    new   YORK. 


RECENT  FICTION. 


The  Man  Who  Knew  Better. 

By  T.  Gallon,  author  of  **  Tatterley,"  etc.  Illustrated  by 
Gordon  Browne.      8vo.      Cloth,  II1.50. 

"The  best  Christmas  story  that  has  appeared  since  the  death  of  Charles 
Dickens.  .  .  .  It  is  an  admirably  written  story,  and  merits  warm  welcome  and 
broad  recognition." — Baltimore  Sun. 

Under  the  Skylights. 

By  H'^-'RY  B.  Fuller,  author  of  "The  Chevalier  of  Pensieri- 
Vani,"  "The  Cliff  Dwellers,"  etc.  i  2mo.  Deckle  edge,  gilt 
top,  $1.50. 

The  charming  humor,  delightful  flavor,  and  refined  quality  of  Mr.  Fuller's 
work  impart  a  peculiar  zest  to  this  subtly  satirical  picture  of  the  extraordinary 
vicissitudes  of  arts  and  letters  in  a  Western  metropolis. 

The  Apostles  of  the  Southeast. 

By  Frank  T,  Bullen,  author  of  *•  The  Cruise  of  the  Cachalot," 
'*  Idyls  of  the  Sea,"  etc.     i  2mo.      Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  Mr.  BuUcn  writes  with  a  sympathy  and  pathetic  touch  rare  indeed.  His 
characters  are  living  ones,  his  scenes  full  of  life  and  realism,  and  there  is  not  a 
page  in  the  whole  book  which  is  not  brimful  of  deepest  interest." — Phila- 
delphia Item. 

The  Alien. 

By  F.  F.  Montr ESOR,  author  of  *•  Into  the  Highways  and 
Hedges,"  etc.     1 2mo.      Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  May  be  confidently  commended  to  the  most  exacting  reader  as  an  absorb^ 

ing  story,  excellently  told." — Kansas  Cty  Star. 

While  Charlie  Was  Away. 

By  Mrs.  Poultney  Bigelow.     i6mo.     Cloth,  75  cents. 

Mrs.  Bigelow  tells  a  wonderfully  vivid  story  of  a  woman  in  London  *'smjrt" 
life  whose  hunger  for  love  involves  her  in  perils,  but  finds  a  true  way  out  in 
the  end. 

D  .     A  P  P  L  E  T  O  N      AND     COMPANY,     .NEW     YORK. 


BOOKS  BY  GILBERT  PARKER. 

Umform  Editioa* 

The  Seats  of  the  Mighty. 

Being  the  Memoirs  of  Captain  Robert  Moray,  sometime  an 
Officer  in  the  Virginia  Regiment,  and  afterwards  of  Amherst's 
Regiment.      Illustrated,  ;^i.5o. 

"  Another  historical  romance  of  the  vividness  and  intensity  of  '  The  Seats 
of  the  Mighty '  has  never  come  from  the  pen  of  an  American.  Mr.  Parker's 
latest  work  may  without  hesitation  be  set  down  as  the  best  he  has  done.  From 
the  first  chapter  to  the  last  word  interest  in  the  book  never  wanes  ;  one  finds 
it  difficult  to  interrupt  the  narrative  with  breathing  space.  It  whirls  with  ex- 
citement and  strange  adventure.  .  .  .  All  of  the  scenes  do  homage  to  the 
genius  of  Mr.  Parker,  and  make  '  The  Seats  of  the  Mighty '  one  of  the  books 
of  the  year." — Chicago  Record. 

"  Mr.  Gilbert  Parker  is  to  be  congratulated  on  the  excellence  of  his  latest 
story,  'The  Seati  of  the  Mighty,'  and  his  readers  are  to  be  congratulated  on 
the  direction  which  his  talents  have  taken  therein.  ...  It  is  so  good  that  we 
do  not  stop  to  think  of  its  literature,  and  the  personality  of  Doltaire  is  a  mas- 
terpiece of  creative  art." — Neiv  Tork  Mail  and  Expras. 

The  Trail  of  the  Sword.    A  Novel.    $1.25. 

"  Mr.  Parker  here  adds  to  a  reputation  already  wide,  and  anew  demonstrates 
his  power  of  pictorial  portrayal  and  of  strong  dramatic  situation  and  climax." — 
Philadelphia  Bulletin. 

The  Trespasser.    $1.25. 

"  Interest,  pith,  force,  and  charm — Mr.  Parker's  new  story  possesses  all 
these  qualities.  .  .  .  Almost  bare  of  synthetical  decoration,  his  paragraphs  are 
stirring  because  they  are  real.  We  read  at  times — as  we  have  read  the  great 
masters  of  romance — breathlessly." — The  Critic 

The  Translation  of  a  Savage.    $12 5. 

"A  book  which  no  one  will  be  satisfied  to  put  down  until  the  end  has  been 
matter  of  certainty  and  assurance." — The  Nation. 

Mrs.  Falchion.    $1.25. 

•'A  well-knit  story,  told  in  an  exceedingly  interesting  way,  and  holding  the 
reader's  attention  to  the  end." 


The  Pomp  of  the  Lavilettes.    i6mo.    Cloth,  1^1.25. 

*'  Its  sincerity  and  rugged  force  will  commend  it  to  those  who  love  and  seek 
strong  work  in  fiction." — The  Critic. 

D.  APPLE  TON   AND   COMPANY,  NEW  YORK.. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

L<M  Ai^;eles 
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